


shiver

by tabfics



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bisexual Kuroo Tetsurou, Character Development, Depression, Eventual Fluff, Gay, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, LGBT, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Sex, No Smut, POV Kozume Kenma, Pre-Established Relationship, Relationship(s), Suicide Attempt, Volleyball, Yamamoto is a bully, all bout that yummy character development, background tsukkiyama <3, bad choices, character gets outed, currently not using honorifics in the fic; im still studying them n dont want to get it wrong, domestic abuse, everyone is their own antagonist, ik tokyo training camp takes place in summer but this year it takes place in the winter bc i said so, kenma is a headstrong dumbass, kenma is sad :(, kenma is tired of being in the closet, kenma is turning 17, kenma n yamaguchi make a good friendship bc i said so, kuro is 18, kuroo is unstable in his sexuality, kuroo's dad is mean angry, mostly first name basis, sex between minors is mentioned but it is not written, sfw, takes place during the tokyo training camp, tsukkiyama subplot hehe, volleyball training camp, who's actually right? you dont know. idk eitehr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 42,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21553672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabfics/pseuds/tabfics
Summary: Kozume Kenma is tired of staying in the closet--but his boyfriend Kuroo Tetsurou is too insecure in his own sexuality to let Kenma come out to anyone, including his mother. For two years they've been playing the game of feelings, with absolutely no clue who's going to bring the sunshine or demolish the sky in thunder. But it's only at their yearly training camp in Tokyo that Kenma pulls the cold, leaving the both of them shivering alone.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma, Kozume Kenma & Yamaguchi Tadashi, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 232
Kudos: 229





	1. shiver

**Author's Note:**

> hello wlcome to this fic that was supposed to be short and fluffy abt good boyfriend kuroo but then lmfao. leave me some love if you like it! remember to read the tags if you haven't, there are some major triggers in this story and I want to make sure you all know b4 u read! this fic was initially inspired by the song 'shiver' by lucy rose. 
> 
> thanks i lov u

The night was born of cold and winter air prickling at our skin like needles slipping through a pincushion. It was dark, only street lights illuminated our faces. 

Tetsurou’s eyes looked so bright beneath the artificial light. He was shimmering, his skin shiny and reflective of the contagious smile marking his lips. God, he’s always so beautiful. 

We were close—not that close. Surrounded by friends; just some teammates and kids from Karasuno that Bokuto and Tetsu managed to drag out into the intercity’s dark lair. Their idea wasn’t the brightest, but we hadn’t been attacked yet, surprisingly. I guess I understand why though. I wouldn’t want to mess with the leading dingshits or the tall boy from Karasuno. Too much carnage. Too many inches—not enough to go around though. Some of us got dealt the short stack (by that I mean me. But it doesn’t bother me as much as I know it bothers Shouyou. I’m taller than him.) 

We’re walking down the street. A gang of teenage boys constellated on Tokyo’s cracked sidewalks, being stupid. (I don’t consider myself stupid. It’s just that wherever Kuro goes, I seem to follow close behind. Not always by choice either. Like tonight. I’d rather be playing Pokémon.) 

We’re walking down the street and it’s fucking cold. I don’t have a jacket on, dumbly enough. Nobody told me we would be outside for this long. Bokuto said he wanted to show the Karasuno first years ’round the city. Kuro thought that would be a great idea, I remember his shit-eating grin when he caught me in the restroom two hours ago and pinned me to the sink. He kissed my cheek and asked, “Are you going to come with us?” 

I let him wrap his arms around me and I sighed into his shirt. It had been awhile since we were that close—he wouldn’t dare let that happen in public. Kuroo Tetsurou had a reputation to uphold as the volleyball team’s captain. He only kisses me in the shadows. 

“No. I’m going to stay here,” I had replied earlier, listening to the sweet sound of his lips as they left my cheek. He combed his hands through my hair and smiled—but genuinely. Kindly. Not like when he’s with Bokuto and his teeth are so visible it looks like he’s about to ravage the next first year who looks at him. 

He cupped my face. “You should come with us. It’ll be fun. It’ll be dark and we’ll be close—it could be kinda romantic, you know?” 

Ha. Romantic my ass. All I am is regretful and fucking freezing. 

Tetsurou and Bokuto acted like a couple of overly enthusiastic announcers as we passed boring, empty buildings. It was no matter, though. At least Hinata found it impressive. His eyes sparkled brighter than the moon. 

We continued walking, Bokuto had started a conversation with his setter—Akaashi—who I could only guess was dragged along just like I was. I took this as an opportunity and turned to Kuroo, glimmery and radiant. He looked so beautiful. So happy. I love when he’s happy. 

“Kuro, I’m freezing,” I say to him. He cocks his head at me and furrows his eyebrows before moving to press his cold fingertips to my arm—covered in goosebumps and too numb to even feel him. 

“Why didn’t you bring a coat, Kenma?” Kuro asks, and I look down. This is the part where he’s supposed to give me his jacket. Like in the movies. Like in real, romantic situations where you want to show off your boyfriend rather than hiding him in the back of your closet while you keep your obscenely sickening ‘straight’ act going and let the girls crawl all over you. But that’s just Tetsurou. 

“I forgot,” I say instead, dumbly. He just blinks at me, the big idiot. My big idiot, though he isn’t going to let anyone know that anytime soon. 

Kuro awkwardly brings me closer and wraps his arm around my back. He’s still got his leather jacket on, and it’s icy against my shoulders and neck. Bokuto is watching us, I know he’s trying to be discreet. (Discreet as he can be.) Kuro rubs his thumb on my upper arm and sighs. “Sorry, Buddy.” 

“Buddy,” I cough, quietly albeit. It was only for him to hear, and I know he hears it as he pulls away from me and leaves me to succumb back into the cold again. Not that I wasn’t cold before, but at least I knew he cared a little bit. “Okay. I see how it is.” 

He looks down. Bokuto looks at us, distaste splayed obviously on his face. He sighs. “Jesus Christ, Tetsurou. If you aren’t going to give him your jacket then I’m going to give him mine. He’s freezing.” 

This is when everyone actually pays attention, which I hate. Bokuto’s loud. He’s also the only one who knows about us. And he’s just as upset as me that it’s been three fucking years and Tetsurou still refuses to come out and acknowledge the fact that he’s hurting me by keeping me in the closet with him. Everyone is looking at us, and Karasuno’s tall boy has his eyebrow cocked. He can tell Tetsu’s full of shit. I just know it. 

Kuro doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t even look up. Bokuto sighs. “You’re so fucking insecure that you can’t even give your best friend your jacket? Really?” Bokuto takes his off and walks over to me, draping his own jacket over my shoulders. I look at him and he looks back at me with eyes full of complete and utter sympathy. 

“Thank you, Bokuto. I appreciate it a lot,” I murmur, quietly. Kuro grits his teeth, but I don’t care. I’m upset too. I have feelings too. It’s not all about him. I’m important too. I don’t deserve to be shoved in a closet for three years. I know he’s ashamed of me. I don’t deserve to be treated this way. 

“Don’t tell me what I am and what I’m not, Koutarou,” Kuro snips, eye contact still heavily with the ground. I look over my shoulder at Shouyou—he looks confused. But he’s a sweet kid, he knows it’s not his place to interrupt, even if he’s kind of a dumbass sometimes. The tall boy beside him looks uninterested—maybe even a little disappointed. That might just be me though. 

Bokuto throws his hands up. “I’m not the one who’s been hiding for three years, Bro. I’m not the one who hasn’t even been on an actual, real, public date.” He’s right. 

“It isn’t any of your business to be saying this shit in front of everyone,” Kuro replies. He’s angry, but I think he’s hurt more than anything. Is it bad that I don’t care? I’m so tired of living in his shadow and being confined to sitting on his bed with takeout. That’s not romantic, that’s not a fucking date. 

“I’m hurting, Kuro,” I whisper. “You’re so ashamed of me. Why would you put me through all of this if you won’t let me be myself?” 

I only say it loud enough for him to hear, but the others around us are being very keen now that they know something's up with Kuroo. I can’t promise they didn’t hear me. 

Tetsurou sighs. “I’m not fucking ashamed of you, Kenma. Why would you even think that? You’re my best friend.” He looks around, insecurely. Totally and utterly insecure. Like a rabid dog, kind of. Very unattractive. 

“Is that all I am to you?” I’m quiet, yet again. But like last time, I also can’t promise anything. 

“Of course not. You know that,” He whispers back, very, very quietly. Almost inaudibly. 

I’m louder when I reply. “Then why the fuck did your friend have to give me his jacket? If I mean so much to you, you wouldn’t make me pretend I was fucking straight for three years. Because guess what, everybody? I’m gay! I want to fuck guys! I’m fucking done with hiding because you’re too insecure in yourself. If you don’t want me, just fucking say it! Don’t leave me to hurt and hate myself because I think something's wrong with me because my boyfriend won’t let me tell my mom about us. Guess what, Tetsurou? Everyone knows now! I’m done letting you treat me like shit in public then make out with me in the restroom while no one’s looking. You’re the reason I have trust issues! Did you know that? I bet you didn’t, because you’re so absorbed in your fucking head and your own self image to give a single shit about how I’m feeling. I’m done, Kuroo. If you’re actually my boyfriend then fucking act like it. Don’t toss me aside the moment someone else walks in. I’m not trash. I’m not your toy. I deserve respect and love just as much as anyone else. I don’t deserve to be hurt any longer.” 

My face is on fire. I’m numb, but the blood within me is rushing and I can feel it flush my cheeks. My cheeks are wet—when did I start crying? Tetsurou’s eyes are wide across from mine, peering hollowly into me with deep fear holding him captive. I glare right back. 

“Kozume,” I hear, but it isn’t Tetsurou. He doesn’t speak to me. It’s Shouyou, he zips through some of his teammates to take me by the wrist, bright brown doe eyes watching me, full of emotion. I don’t know what emotion though. Maybe he’ll hit me. No one else is doing anything but staring. “Are you alright?” 

What a stupid question. Of fucking course I’m not. 

I’m not even friends with him. He’s just a little bug to me. He’s interesting, he’s kind, but he isn’t my friend. I push him off of me and watch his eyes shatter in heartbreak. His setter blinks a few times before frowning at me and yanking Shouyou backwards by the neck of his shirt. “Stay out of it, dumbass,” his setter says to him. He’s watching me, then Tetsurou, then the ground. 

“Are you just going to stand there? Huh?” I ask Tetsu, sharply turning away from the first year crows and towards my boyfriend. “Bet I’m not the fucking blood in your veins, now, am I?” 

He winces, his eyes fill when he hears me insult the dumb fucking speech he uses before every game. It’s ridiculous, this blood and brain shit. We all know that without me Kuro would be fine. 

“Why would you tell everyone?” He whispers, hurt. Good. He deserves to feel what I’ve felt for the past three years he’s hidden me away. 

“I’m sick and tired of hiding,” I spit. I shove my arms through Bokuto’s jacket that was draped on my shoulders by him and I cross my stomach. “I’m coming clean.” 

Kuro grits his teeth. “You just outed me, Kenma!” He screams, and moves toward me. I keep my stature and I glare at him, gritting my teeth right back. “You don’t get to decide when everyone knows!” 

“And you don’t get to lock me up for three years because you’re too terrified of someone thinking you’re gay just because I am. You held me back, Tetsurou! If I go down, you’re going down with me. This is all your fault!” I yell right back, shoving him away from me when he steps closer. He winces again and grabs at his chest where I hit him—but he doesn’t dramatize it. 

“It’s not my fault! You came onto me! I didn’t want this!”

I stop. 

I feel my jaw go slack, my mouth hanging open. My eyes are watery, but they have been. I’m only just noticing it now as the sting increases and the lost air rises in my throat as disgusting, violent bile. 

I cough, and it’s followed by a sharp, painful sob. I didn’t see it coming, but I can’t control it now. I can’t even control myself, I can’t stop my legs when I move toward him and when my palm hits his cheek, I don’t recall having moved it. 

His cheek is red, my hand stings. 

He grits his teeth at me and grabs at his face where I slapped him, but he fucking deserved it. 

“Three years. Three fucking years,” I manage to gurgle out, followed by multiple sobs. I cradle my face in my hands, and suddenly everything feels so heavy and real. I look up, cold hands combed through my hair. 

Everyone is watching us. It’s almost like there’s a circle enveloped around us, Shouyou is clinging to his setter’s shirt. His setter is looking at me with what looks like sympathy in his dull blue eyes. I turn my head, everything is spinning. I see Bokuto, mouth agape as his legs take him towards Tetsurou. Akaashi standing on the outside, head down. When our eyes meet, he nods, as if he understands. 

I can’t take it. 

There’s the tall boy from Karasuno, expressionless, standing next to a freckled brunet with wide eyes and an open mouth. He looks at me and bites his lip, as if an apology. I shake my head, turn. I see Lev and Yaku, both look to be in absolute shock. Confused, maybe even hurt. Yamamoto stands behind them, his teeth bared. He growls at me. 

I can’t take this. Fuck Kuroo. Fuck him. 

I look at Tetsurou, he’s watching me. He’s crying, he’s still holding his cheek like he used to hold mine. I can hear his soft crying, he looks so hurt. So disappointed. 

Everyone watches me. They’re all against me, I’m the freaky fag now. I’m the freak obsessed with Kuroo, the freak who ‘came onto him’ which isn’t even true—he asked me out! The freak who hit the captain of the team, the stupid setter who everyone would be fine without. 

I can’t take it. I should leave. I should just go. He doesn’t even care about me. He doesn’t want me. 

My body is overtaken by a wail, a mixture of hard sobbing and screaming takes over me and I can’t feel my mind. I can’t feel anything. All I see is him. 

I can’t do this. I need to leave. 

I take off in a sprint.


	2. run

Someone calls after me. 

“Kozume! Kozume! Stop running!” 

I know who it is. It’s not Kuro. It’s not Bokuto. It’s not Akaashi. It’s not anyone I wish was running after me. I don’t stop. I keep going, I keep running, more than I ever have in practice. I run and I run, the breath leaves me but I don’t care. I’m overtaken with the winter air, I don’t care. I keep going, I keep running until my legs collapse and he’s still behind me, still running after me, still yelling. 

It’s only when Im on my knees on the cold, crackled pavement that he catches me and throws his arms around me. “Kozume,” Shouyou says, hugging me tight as I cry. I’m so loud, I’m absolutely wailing. I can’t stop it, I hope Kuro can hear me. What he’s done to me. 

“I didn’t come onto him!” I yell, and Shouyou hugs me tighter, though it’s obvious he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He doesn’t know how to comfort someone, he just follows his heart. He came after me, he didn’t want to see his friend hurting. 

I’m not his fucking friend though. 

“I know,” He says back, quietly. It's a complete foil from our personalities, the way we’re acting. I’m more emotional than him. He’s quieter than me. “I know you didn’t, Kozume. You wouldn’t do that.” 

“I wouldn’t do that,” I cry, my head falling onto the small boy’s chest. He lets it happen and awkwardly pats my hair, as if I’m a cat. 

“I know,” He says again, then coughs. He doesn’t say anything else, he just holds me as I cry. I’m still wearing Bokuto’s jacket, maybe I should vomit on it. I know I’ll puke if I cry anymore, that’s how it always happens. Bokuto ran for Tetsurou after I hit him without a second glance at me. I thought he was on my side. 

Shouyou sighs and rubs my back, the floodgates don’t stop. They aren’t going to stop anytime soon, either. I’m upset. I’m so upset. I hate Tetsurou. I hate him. He was my first love. First kiss. The first boy I ever had a crush on. The boy who took my virginity and laughed with me after the fact. I’m the one who took his. My best friend. My favorite person in the world—not anymore. I didn’t know he could be that fucking cruel. 

I was his toy for when nobody else was there. I wasn’t anything more to him. 

I tell Shouyou, “I thought he loved me.” I don’t know why I do, but it tumbles out of my lips and I won’t take it back. I really did. I thought Tetsurou loved me. But Lord, was I absolutely and utterly stupid. 

“He might still love you. He’s probably just upset,” Shouyou tries to reason, but it only makes me angrier. I cry harder, I feel it rising in my throat and my stomach is churning. I’m going to puke soon—I know it. I hope it’s all over Kuro. “I didn’t know you were… gay.” 

He says it like it’s a curse word. Maybe I’ll puke on him instead. “Kuro didn’t let me tell anyone. Didn’t want me to ruin his image, I suppose.” 

Shouyou shakes his head. “Maybe he was just trying to protect you.” 

“Whose fucking side are you on, Shouyou? If you’re just going to belittle my feelings then leave. I don’t need you.” I stand up, but then wobble and fall right back down, right back into the smaller boy’s arms. 

My sobbing turns softer, it turns into sickening weeping. I sound so pitiful. So defenseless. If only Tetsurou could see me now, he would feel so guilty. The monster would creep over him and it would eat him whole, and I would watch happily. He doesn’t know how the monster already has me held captive. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to help you,” Shouyou mumbles, stumbling over his words a little bit. He’s so lost, he obviously doesn’t know what he’s doing. He acts with his heart—not his head. Like I just did. Like I never used to do. It’s all Tetsurou. 

“I know. I’m sorry,” I whisper, and he nods. He holds me to his chest, closer. I’m so hopeless, such a romantic, that right now I wish he would lend his lips to kiss my hair like Kuro would do before we left for school in the morning. God, I’m such a sucker. 

I miss Tetsu. I shouldn’t have said anything. Because he wouldn’t have lied. He wouldn’t have told them I came onto him to defend himself. I think I would rather be blissfully ignorant than know what he really thinks. I wish I could be in his strong, secure arms now instead of Shouyou’s weak ones. I wish the soft pad of his thumb would brush over my cheek about now, I wish he would whisper in my ear how much he loves me. But that was all a lie, wasn’t it? He doesn’t love me. He used me, he never wanted to be with me in real life. He’s probably not even gay! 

Shouyou sighs. “Come on, Kozume. Kageyama’s going to find us and walk us back to the high school. Alright?” 

I nod, though I don’t want to go back and face everyone. But I’ve already been a handful for Shouyou, who cares so deeply about me when we’ve only known each other for a short time. He stands up and takes my hands to help me to my feet. 

My stomach calms and he holds my hand. I hear footsteps behind us, but I don’t look back. Shouyou does, and he smiles. I relax a little bit upon seeing his expression, but I still don’t turn around. 

“Dumbass, we need to go to sleep. Why did you stay here so long,” I hear a darkly voice murmur towards Shouyou, who only blushes and grits his teeth. 

“I was helping my friend,” He defends, slouching his arm. He lets go of my hand, but that’s okay. He looks at me before he does it and I nod, I let him. He’s been so kind to me. I don’t understand why. 

“How are you feeling?” Another voice hushes, wrapping around my ears. It’s not Shoyou’s setter, Kageyama. He’s behind us. It’s another Karasuno boy, though. A first year, I presume. I haven’t seen him before this year. He’s not a starter either. 

The boy with wild brunet hair and a kind voice walks beside me alongside Shouyou, Kageyama and the tall boy walking behind us. “I’m upset,” I murmur in reply. He nods. 

“Sorry we all heard. It sounded like it should’ve been something you talked about in private,” the boy says lightly. His voice is like a dream, it lulls me to a weary state. I feel comfortable with him and Hinata beside me. “I’m Yamaguchi, by the way. Yamaguchi Tadashi.” 

“You can call me Kenma. And yeah, it should’ve been. But it wasn’t even going to happen in the first place. I was just pissy,” I say, then sigh. Yamaguchi nods again, taking in all I tell him. 

“You weren’t being pissy,” I hear from behind me. The tall boy is speaking. “You had a valid point.” 

Kageyama snorts. “Says you.” 

The tall boy huffs. “Do you not think he had a valid point?” 

Kageyama shakes his head, I see it when I turn my head to him as we walk. “I think it was kinda tacky to talk about in public.” 

I scrunch my nose. “What part? The whole relationship thing or the fact that I’m gay?” 

Kageyama looks down, he doesn’t reply. That answers the question better than he could. I know his answer. 

Yamaguchi shakes his head. He doesn’t agree. “It’s not tacky, Kenma.” 

Shouyou nods along. “You shouldn’t have to hide something so personal for such a long time.” 

I scoff. “Yeah, but now that the team knows, someone’s going to run their mouth to coach and next thing you know, I’ll be gone. I guess I can just play video games for the rest of high school.” 

Shouyou shakes his head. “I won’t let that happen. Bokuto won’t let that happen.” 

“You don’t get it. You can’t control that.” 

Hinata grits his teeth. “I don’t care. You shouldn’t be kicked just because… of your sexuality.”

“Gay. That’s the word you’re looking for. It isn’t a curse word. I’m gay,” I say aloud, and Shouyou listens. I know the boys behind me are cringing, as if the word is a weapon. Yamaguchi watches them sadly. 

We arrive back at the high school and I swallow the lump in my throat. The little crow nods at me. “Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you deserve the treatment he gave you. And you aren’t going to get kicked.” 

I grin at him, though it’s forced. To show him that I’m thankful. That I know he cares, even though I know he’s not over the word. He’ll probably scrub his mouth out before we go to bed, afraid it’ll infect him. But at least the thought was nice. He really cares for me. 

We stand at the steps and Shouyou looks at me, as if to ask if I’m ready to go inside. But before I can say anything, Yamaguchi is speaking. 

“Go on inside. I want to talk to Kenma for a moment,” he murmurs. The three other boys blink at him, but Yamaguchi stares at them and waits until they finally stumble off and into the building to talk to me. 

Immediately he wraps his arms around me and presses his cheek to mine, lips to my ear. 

“You’re so brave,” he murmurs. I wrap my arms around him and sigh into him, collapsing all of my weight into the first year’s body. He doesn’t mind. 

I shake my head and whisper back, “I’m not. I was just angry.” 

“You deserve to be happy, Kenma. And you are brave. That’s a lot of people you came out in front of. It doesn’t matter if you were angry or not. Kuroo needs to get his act together. You had every right to be angry,” Yamaguchi tells me, hands on my back. It feels good to hear someone tell me that directly. It makes me feel assured, like I’m right. Like I didn’t ruin everything, that I deserve a happy ending too. I’m not the villain. 

“That means a lot to me,” I murmur back. He hugs me tightly before letting go and looking me in the eye. 

“I’m here for you. And Hinata is too, even if he’s a little lost sometimes,” Yamaguchi says, and even giggles a little bit. “I’m like you.” 

“You’re gay?” 

Yamaguchi nods. “I am. And I'm also absolutely, madly in love with my best friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! chapter updates will hopefully be biweekly or so for awhile, then maybe weekly as I delve more into the plot. don't forget to leave kudos and comments! I love talking to readers and listening to your ideas. also I like making friends with fic readers bc yknow, fic recs. :)  
> \- kelsey


	3. scream

Yamaguchi and I sneak inside and back to the quarters where we’re sleeping. When we walk in, I see Bokuto sitting inside his sleeping bag, hands in his hair and sighing. Kuro is sitting across from him, red-eyed and crying softly. He’s shaking, his words are unintelligible under his crying. I press my lips together. 

Yamaguchi looks at me and nods his head in sympathy. 

“Kozume, we need to talk,” I hear from behind me, I spin around. Yamaguchi does too. 

It’s Yamamoto. Fuck. 

“I’m going to bed, Yamamoto. You can talk to me tomorrow,” I mutter, then grab my sleeping bag from the floor. It was beside Tetsuruou’s. I don’t look at him as I grab it and put it beside Yamaguchi’s. 

Everyone is looking at me. Well, everyone awake. I see the rest of Karasuno and Fukorudani in the room as well, and of those awake, they’re staring at me. I’m sure somebody told them what happened. 

Yamamoto shakes his head, I feel his eyes burning into my head. “Kozume, we don’t want you to sleep in here with us.” 

...It hits my chest like a brick, I feel all the wind knock out of me and pure dread leaking over me from my head to the tips of my toes. I hold the little breath that I have left. 

I don’t speak, so Yamamoto does. 

“We don’t want you to sleep in here because.. well, we don’t want you to do weird things to us when we’re asleep because you’re… homosexual.” 

I scoff. “Really?” I look at everyone, nobody is interfering but everyone awake is watching. My eyes heaten up. You better not fucking cry. “Why would I do that? Just because I like boys doesn’t mean I like all of you! I have standards! I have morals!” 

Yamamoto presses his lips. “We don’t want to risk it. After Kuroo said you came onto him…” 

I slam my sleeping bag on the floor. “I! Didn’t! Fucking! Come! On! To! Him! He’s lying! He just wants sympathy, he’s just as ‘homosexual’ as I am!” 

Yamamoto shakes his head again. “Kuroo is straight, Kozume. He only stuck with you because he felt bad for you because you didn’t have any other friends.” 

My heart splits in two, I feel fire licking the blood in my veins. Tetsurou said that. He’s going to regret when the blood in these veins actually start to flow—he’s going to regret it so bad. 

“Tetsurou? Did you tell them that?” I snap my head over to the boy sitting on the floor with Bokuto, eyes reddened as much as mine. He looks down, he refuses to make eye contact with me. I look Bokuto dead in the eye. “Bokuto, tell them they’re wrong.” 

Bokuto looks down. “Tetsu said you trapped him with you.” 

I unzip his jacket and throw it at him, tears prickling at my eyes. I clench my fists, though I won’t hit anyone else tonight. “And you believe that? Bokuto, you were just as adamant on him as I was about letting me come out. You actually believe his bullshit? He’s the one who asked me out! He’s the one who made the first move! First kiss! He wanted to have sex with me and I told him no the first time in case he would regret it later. But he kept pushing! So we had sex, because he wanted it. Tetsurou, don’t make up lies and pin this all on me because I was brave enough to finally speak up about how I’m feeling. You’re a horrible person!” 

Tetsu snaps. “I just wanted to protect you, Kenma! That’s why I wouldn’t let you tell anyone! I didn’t want you to get hurt when you came out!” 

“You hurt me more by keeping me in the closet. You don’t get to choose who I am, Tetsurou. You don’t get to choose when I come out and who I come out to. You don’t get to tell me that I can’t tell my mom about us and you don’t get to tell me that I can’t come out until college.” 

Kuroo shakes his head. “Maybe if you fucking told me you felt that way I wouldn’t have kept you back. I was doing you a favor!” 

“I did tell you! Today! And what do you do? Tell everyone I’m fucking crazy. That I came onto you—do you know how absolutely sick that is? You don’t make that shit up, Kuroo!” 

“Maybe I felt that way, Kenma!” 

“Then why the fuck did you have sex with me? Huh? Why did you have sex with me and why did you continue to make out with me in the dressing room before practice by your own damn choice?” I yell. He’s so full of shit. 

Yamamoto interrupts before Kuroo can say anything. “This is exactly why we don’t want you sleeping with us, Kozume. You’re acting crazy. Who knows what you will do when we’re sleeping?” 

Nobody speaks up. Nobody tells Yamamoto to shut up, not even Yamaguchi. But I don’t blame the first year, he has no right to talk to his upperclassman like that. No matter if it’s over unjust decisions. 

I wonder if they talked about me before we came back. 

I shake my head and I look Kuro dead in the eyes as I pick up my sleeping bag off the floor. “Alright. Guess I’ll sleep in the bathroom,” I snip before collecting myself and walking out of the room. 

When I get to the bathroom, I collapse and let the sobs go. It doesn’t take long for the bile to rise and I finally puke, slouched over the toilet pitifully and wailing. Why is everyone so cruel? I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t do anything but speak up. 

I hear footsteps a few minutes later. I’m still sobbing just as loudly over the toilet, my guts pouring out of me. Arms wrap around my abdomen, but they aren’t my Kuro’s arms like I had hoped. 

I cry harder. 

“Kozume, we could hear you from the sleeping quarters,” I hear Shouyou say, though he’s not the one with arms wrapped around my tummy and face in the crook of my neck. 

“I hate myself,” I manage to spit out before puking again, and the boy latched to me holds my hair back. 

“Kenma, they’re just being cruel,” the boy says. It’s Yamaguchi, which I figured. His nice voice resonates in my ears and I sigh, my crying just as loud as before. 

“I fucking hate myself! I should just kill myself—” I wail, my voice echoes across the restroom walls. 

“No!” Shouyou yells back. 

I shake my head. “You can’t fucking stop me, Shouyou. You’re not the one who got kicked out of the sleeping quarters and none of the fifty something boys defended me. No one cares about me! I sure as hell don’t! I should just end it now. It’d be so much easier for everyone!” I scream. I can’t control myself. 

I puke again and Yamaguchi holds my hair, again. I sob and sob, wailing louder than I knew I could. I’m so upset. Kuro—fuck Kuroo! Fuck Bokuto! Fuck Yamamoto! Fuck all of them! 

I grab onto Yamaguchi as tight as I can and I wail info his shoulder, coughing and spitting and screaming. 

Tetsurou knows about my depression. He knows how hard it is for me to even wake up and get out of bed every day. He’s been there through mental breakdowns and he’s been there through my episodes—but he’s not here now. My bottle of antidepressants is though, and I’m starting to have an idea of what to do with them. 

He knows the burden he set on me. If I slash my throat, it’s going to be his fucking fault. 

We hear footsteps pounding down the hallway and soon enough in the bathroom. 

I don’t know who it is. I don’t care. I don’t want them here. I just want Tetsurou to apologize. I want him to hold me and calm me down like he used to when I would get into this mindset. But this time, it’s because of him. 

“Kozume, Coach Nekomata came into the sleeping quarters. Yaku pulled him aside and told him that you and Kuroo had a fight, but he’s really angry about it. Kuroo’s talking to him now so I ran here to tell you,” the boy says, completely out of breath. It’s Lev, I can tell by his accent and his heavy breathing, “We heard you, Kenma. We could hear everything you said.” 

I shake my head. “Go away. Don’t act helpful now that I have to sleep in the fucking bathroom. You didn’t speak up earlier, don’t pretend to be on my side now.” 

Yamaguchi rubs my back and I hear Shouyou sigh softly. Lev sighs and nods. He gets ready to walk out, but stops abruptly when Coach Nekomata’s voice is heard outside of the bathroom. 

“What the hell is going on, Kuroo?” His voice booms, I hold a hand over my mouth to keep from sobbing. Tears stream down my face, but I try my best to keep quiet. Yamaguchi continues to hold me, Shouyou shoots closer to us and takes my hand in his. Lev sits against the wall and doesn’t talk to us or look at us. 

“Kenma and I had a small fight, that’s all—” we hear Kuroo respond. 

“This is a training camp, Kuroo. Not social time to implode your relationships with teammates!” Coach replies, he sighs. “If it was just a small fight then why could we hear Kozume sobbing from across the school? Where is he? Why isn’t he in the sleeping quarters?” 

“Yamamoto kicked him out.” 

“Why would he do that? You better explain the whole story before I bench you for all of tomorrow, and I know you don’t want me to do that.” 

Kuroo sighs. “...Kou and I decided to take some of the Karasuno first years and the team out to show the kids around the city, Kenma came with us. It was cold and he was cold or something, Koutarou gave him his jacket and yelled at me for not doing it, then Kenma went off on me.” 

Coach Nekomata coughs. “Why would the boys get angry at you for that. You’re not telling me the whole story. And why did you think it would’ve been a good idea to go out at night? We explicitly said that you need to stay here!” 

“I can’t tell you the whole story, Coach! It’s really personal!” Tetsurou cries. 

There’s shuffling for a moment. “Then I’ll ask Kozume. Where is he now?” 

Tetsu sighs and I can only imagine him running his hands through his hair like he does when he’s stressed. In my head, I see him grabbing his neck as we hear him sigh again. “Kenma came out, Coach. He’s… gay. That’s why Yamamoto didn’t want him to sleep with us. And honestly, I didn’t feel comfortable with it either.” 

I cover both of my hands over my mouth and feel my stomach explode as I attempt to hold back the tears. Yamaguchi cups my face in his hands and looks me in the eye. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. We aren’t going to leave you. It’s going to be okay,” he whispers to me, over and over again. I close my eyes. 

“What?” Coach says, blunt and harshly. “All of those boys just let him leave? You all just let Yamamoto kick him out?” 

I imagine Tetsu shaking his head. “But he’s gay, Coach! We don’t—” 

“I don’t care what he is! You all exiled him! You’re the captain, Kuroo, you’re supposed to make sure that things like that never happen!” Coach yells, then his voice lowers and he whispers. “I don’t care what he is. I thought he was your best friend, Kuroo. You know about his mental state when nobody else does and you just let that happen to him. I’m beyond disappointed in you. Maybe you aren’t fit for your captain role at all.” 

Tetsurou sighs in exasperation. “But Coach!” 

Coach Nekomata ignores him. “Where is Kenma now? Don’t you dare lie to me, Kuroo.” 

Tetsurou’s voice is shaky. “He’s in there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone who celebrates had a very happy thanksgiving! i went shopping today and knocked out a lot of christmas gifts... hehe. don't forget to leave me some love and comments if you liked the chapter! next update will be on monday or tuesday 
> 
> \- kelsey <3


	4. swallow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING IN THIS CHAPTER!!! Did you read the tags? If you haven't, make sure you do now! Exit this fic if you are triggered by ANYTHING I have listed. If you are still interested in reading the fic but are only triggered by one tag, feel free to contact me at any social medias in my profile and I will work that out with you :) If you ever find yourself in such a low place where you feel you might really hurt yourself, US citizens text HOME to 741741 or call 1-800-273-8255 or talk to someone you trust. Love you all!

My eyes are so puffy. I’m hurt. I feel like total shit. I just want to go home. I miss my mom, I miss my cat. I miss my video games, I miss being able to escape in the only things that I love anymore. But I can’t right now. I feel so lonely. So uninvited, so hated among all the other players. They all watch me with their questioning owl eyes like I’m a different entity all together. 

It’s morning. Last night was truly a wreck, but at least I didn’t end up sleeping in the bathroom. That was good. I slept in the coaches’ quarter after Nekomata and I spoke. It was awkward, but coaches are a lot more mature than high school boys. They didn’t mind. 

We’re in the canteen currently, eating breakfast before all the training starts again. I only slept for about an hour or two last night, I really don’t want to train today. I want to go home. I honestly don’t think I can even look at a ball today, let alone set it to Tetsu with precise accuracy and think about plays. 

Yamaguchi is beside me. The boy hasn’t left my side since we met last night, and I can’t say I’m not grateful for it. I’m extremely appreciative to have someone who cares beside me when I need it most. He’s a sweetheart, and he’s sickeningly in love with the tall, blonde first year his team. He says Tsukki is his best friend, I asked about him last night when everything had cooled down and we were lying next to each other in our respective sleeping bags. 

He’s tired, I know he is. I am too. I see the bags under his eyes and I can only wonder how absolutely shitty I look. My eyes hurt so bad, they’re puffy and bloodshot even after sleeping in it. 

We walk along and I feel everyone’s eyes on me. I follow Yamaguchi and I go where he goes. I won’t even try to sit with my team today, I don’t want to know what they have to say. I don’t want to see Yamamoto. I don’t want to see Lev. And I definitely don’t want to see Tetsurou. 

I sit beside Yamaguchi, who sets us down at Karasuno’s table. Shouyou, upon seeing us, gets up from his spot and moves to sit across from me. His eyes are twinkling, per usual. I’m glad last night didn’t affect him too much. 

“Hi Kozume,” he murmurs, then smiles. “Are you feeling better?” 

I shake my head. “Not really. But you don’t have to worry about it—I think I’m all out of tears.” 

He nods, sympathetically. I see their captain and his second in command eyeing me from their spot at the end of the table; I ignore them. Yamaguchi lies his head on my shoulder. “I’m so tired.” 

I sigh. “I’m sorry.” 

“‘S not your fault, Kenma,” he murmurs back, humming a little bit. He perks up when Tsukki (I think that’s a nickname. I don’t know his full name) sits across from him. He smiles. “Good morning, Tsukki!” he says brightly. 

His boy nods, a small grin sits upon his lips. It’s evanescent though, it’s gone as soon as it’s there. “Hey,” he says, absolutely monotonously. I wonder how Yamaguchi could have such a burning crush on somebody that dull. 

I sigh; I don’t eat my food. I’m not hungry. I feel so hollow, so worthless. I shouldn’t even be here, all I am is a bother to everyone concerned. I should just go. Nobody wants me here. Fuck, _I_ don’t want me here. 

“I forgot something in the sleeping quarters,” I murmur quickly before standing up, walking away before Yamaguchi can come after me. I hope he doesn’t. Even if he does, he’s going to go to the wrong place. I’m not going to the sleeping quarters, I’m going to the locker room. That’s where my things are. That’s where my pills are. I lied for a reason. I don’t want him to find me. 

All eyes are on me again as I leave, I feel them linger on me even when I’m no longer in the room and I’m walking down the empty hallway. My footsteps echo, I feel stuck in my own head. I need to relieve it. I need to relieve all of this—I’m so sad. I feel so heavy. I hate myself, I have for a long time. But now I know nobody else likes me either, and that confirms what I've wanted to do for the past two years but haven’t. I haven’t done it because I loved Tetsurou too much. But now we know he never loved me—so I don’t mind leaving him behind. He can kiss my ass. 

When I reach the locker room, I peer around to make sure I’m alone. I am—nobody else is here. It’s silent. 

I walk to my locker and grab my water bottle, then walk out into the hallway to fill it up at a nearby water fountain. I’m oddly calm, especially speaking for what I’m about to do. I’ll feel at peace, I hope. I’ll feel better than I do here. 

I walk back into the locker room and rummage through my bag, looking for my bag of medicine. Once I find it, I pull it out and unzip it, peering inside. I see my allergy pills, an emergency inhaler, my antidepressants, and my ‘take as needed’ sleeping pills. 

I grab the latter and shove the rest back in the locker. 

I push down the lid and twist it open, then look inside at the mostly full capsule of pills. There's at least fifty in there, my prescription was supposed to last me sixty days. I guess we’ll have to end it early this month. 

I pour a handful of pills into the palm of my hand, sighing. I look at them and bring my hand to mouth, breathing quietly. I close my eyes. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Kozume!” 

I jump at the sudden noise and look up, my dark, frightened eyes meeting Bokuto’s bright, wary ones. He looks scared—I grit my teeth at him and quickly spill the bottle down my throat, swallowing with water. He’s sprinting for me from across the locker room, but I know I can outrun him. He’s very strong but he has a lot more weight to carry than I do. I’m lean. I’m faster. 

I start sprinting too, even though my head grows dizzy almost immediately. My eyes grow blurry, but I keep going. I hear Bokuto screaming after me, his feet smacking the tile floor a rhythm behind mine. He’s too slow, though! I giggle. It feels like a cat and mouse chase—but I’m not the cat. He is. I won’t be a Nekoma cat anymore soon enough. Maybe Bokuto can take my place. Tetsurou sure does like him more than me! 

I keep going, I bend a corner and peer around for somewhere I can go where Bokuto won’t be able to get me. 

It’ll be easy though, that I know. The wonderful thing about intercity schools—all of the doors lock after you close them and can only be opened from the inside. It's perfect for my scenario. 

I look around for any open doors, feet slamming against the floor. I’m growing breathless, dizzier by the moment. It’s working. I’m overdosing. My head is thickening, it’s so foggy. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. 

I see a janitor's closet out of the corner of my eye, door cracked open. _Bingo_. 

I take a sharp left and throw myself into the small room, slamming the door shut after me. Within a split instant, I see the handle jiggling to no avail. I grin as I hear Bokuto slam on the door. 

It’s dark in here, it’s musty and kind of smelly. There’s a cleaning zamboni behind me, I rest myself against it and let the world grow heavier and heavier, listening as Bokuto continues to slam the door and scream for help. 

He’s so loud—I don’t care. It feels oceans away, I’m drowning in the sea. My ears are clogged up and I think I hear somebody else, a lot of footsteps. More slamming. Kicking. 

I smile. 

...But then I hear his voice. 

“Kenma, baby, I’m so sorry,” I hear my Kuro cry. The door shakes with him against it. “Please, let me in. We’ll fix this, okay? I lied, I lied about you. I was scared and I lied. I love you so much,” he cries. _Good_. He deserves to beg. He deserves to have my pain reflected onto him. “Please let me in, baby. We’ll fix this.” 

I shake my head, it’s spinning. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” I murmur, slurring. I’ll be out like a light within the minute—I can feel it. 

“Please stay. For me. Your cat. Your mom,” he cries. “I know I did you wrong. I didn’t realize what would happen. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry won’t fix anything,” I yell at him, drunkenly on the taste of pills. “You were so cruel to me. You let them exile me, Kuroo. You proved that nobody loves me.” 

“I love you, Kenma. I love you so fucking much, okay? I said it. In front of everyone. Let me redeem myself, please,” he says. 

_Bullshit_. 

“I really loved you, Tetsurou,” I slur, before letting myself collapse onto the ground. It’s so dark, my eyelids are heavy. 

There’s more slamming on the door, yelling. Kuroo is crying, he’s throwing his fists at the door. Someone’s trying to break the lock. 

I don’t care. I let the heaviness succumb me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! this chapter was one of the lowest points in the fic and the next one will be as well, although it isn't as angsty as others might be. i wanted to introduce to you all my christmas gift tag! this year, i want to give back to my readers and work on new themes, so i'm doing that in the form of gifting fics! if you are interested in receiving a gift for christmas, even if you don't celebrate, hit up any of the social medias listed in my profile or my curious cat at curiouscat.me/tabmyg! all you have to do is list the fandom, ship, any tropes or plot summaries you would like the fic to feature, and your ao3 username (or tumblr if you would rather me post it there) and i'll have a gift for you on christmas. :) i want to better know my readers in this way so please don't hold back! currently ive written a fic for all the fandoms i'm in, so check out my profile to see. happy holidays everyone, i'll have another update up on wednesday or thursday of this week. 
> 
> \- kelsey


	5. awaken

I wake up and my immediate thought is: _Fuck, I’m awake. Why am I still here?_

I’m not dead. But I’m not in the janitor’s closet either. I hear crying, it’s not my own, and it’s not where I am. I think I’m in a hospital. I hear a lot of voices outside—like, a lot. 

_Jesus Christ, they better not have cancelled the training camp because of me._

Someone walks in, the smell of latex and clorox following them. They’re dressed in white—it’s a nurse. Maybe a doctor. 

There’s an IV in my arm, an oxygen mask over my face. She comes over and takes the mask off with a soft smile upon her soft face. “I’m so glad you’re still here, Kenma,” she tells me. 

My eyes well up. “I’m not.” I sigh, look around the empty room. A monitor beeps quietly. “Is my mother here?” 

The nurse nods. “You’re so lucky you survived. It took awhile for them to get you here,” she says, delicately. I shake my head. 

“I’m not lucky. I’m the opposite. I want to be _dead_ , not lying in a hospital room,” I tell her. She sits on the bed beside me and watches me. She has pretty brown eyes, they remind me of Yamaguchi’s. 

“There’s a lot of boys out there who want to see you, Kenma. They care a lot about you.” 

I shake my head again. “They wouldn’t let me sleep with them last night because I’m gay. They kicked me out, I almost slept in the restroom before my coach found out,” I tell her, tears dripping down my cheeks slowly. Her smile softens into a slight frown. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. I look away from her. 

“You said my mom was here?” 

She nods. “You want to see her?” 

I nod back. 

She brushes her thumb over my hand before standing up and leaving the room, closing the door behind. As she leaves, I hear a bunch of voices encroaching upon the door. I hope she doesn’t let them in. I don’t want them. I want my mom. 

Within a minute, the door opens again and the kind nurse walks in, followed by the only person I want to see. 

“Kenma,” I hear my mother whisper. Her eyes are watery and glittering with tears—her brown hair is unkempt in its ribbon. She walks closer, slowly, as if the mere thought of me is a bomb ready to explode. I’m a grenade. 

She sits beside me and takes my hands in hers, rubbing the bluish, purple hue of my skin. 

She sighs. “Tetsurou told me you two fought,” she says, making brief eye contact before looking away. She drops her head and her ratty hair hangs around her face—it’s like mine that way. We weren’t gifted with nice hair. 

“That’s not why I did it,” I whisper, delicately. She shakes her head and I see the tears prominent on her glistening, hollow cheeks. I almost feel bad—but then I remember what happened, and the comforting thought goes away. I still wish I was gone. 

“Why, Kenma? I love you so much. You have to know that,” she cries, her voice is chocolatey and thickened by her confusion and sadness. I purse my lips, she holds my hands tighter and shuffles closer to me. 

I take a deep breath and let it out—I feel sort of dizzy. “I’m gay,” I whisper, scared it’ll hurt her like it did Shouyou and the other boys. I hold it like a knife, I shouldn’t be throwing it around like I have been. I need to make sure I can protect myself before I let it go again. 

She stops rubbing my palms with her thumbs and freezes. I watch her blink, then look away. It hurts too much to see her. I don’t want to know what she thinks anymore. 

“You could have told me, Kenma,” she says. A hint of disappointment flickers over her tone, but it’s gone as soon as my name drips from her lips. She holds my hands tighter and intertwines our fingers. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Mama,” I reply, letting her help me to sit up. She embraces me in a hug and kisses my cheek, but it’s different than when Kuro did it. (obviously, she’s my mom and not my boyfriend. Wait—are Kuro and I still boyfriends?) She’s softer. She doesn’t need the attention, she wants to give it to me. She wants me to be safe. 

She brushes her fingers through a strand of my bleached hair before tucking it behind my ear and smiling at me, albeit wearily and tired. She’s been through so much with me. I’ve been through so much with her. I would never want to have a stronger relationship with anyone else. 

“Did you love him, Kenma?” She asks me. She cocks her head and puts her hands in her lap, letting the tension release from her shoulders and chest. She takes a deep breath. “Tetsurou—did you love him?” 

I nod. “We were boyfriends. He wouldn’t let me tell you, Mom.” 

She scrunches her nose in dissatisfaction. “Why not? You should’ve told me.” 

I shrug and say, “He didn’t want me to. He didn’t want anyone to know we were gay...so he kept me in the closet. I went off on him last night about it, we were in front of people. He told them I came onto him.” 

My mother’s eyes widen. “I don’t believe that. You wouldn’t do that.” 

I shake my head. “I wouldn’t; you’re right,” I say. “He lied to save his ass. To make himself look straight.” I press my lips in a line and watch her dark eyes freeze over. She’s not happy about that. 

“I expected more from Kuroo,” she spits, then frowns loudly. (If frowns make noise, I guess. I could hear hers ringing in my ear louder than the chime of Church bells.) “That’s some bullshit.” 

I nod my head again. “I was so hurt. Two of the boys from Karasuno ran after me when I split off—I was so upset with him and I was so embarrassed, I just ran. When we went back, Yamamoto told me I couldn’t sleep with them. No one on any of the three teams in there stood up for me.” 

I can see my mother’s eyes watering again—it’s the worst thing, I know it is. No parent wants to see their child deliberately left out and/or bullied. No parent wants to see their child hurting, in pain. She saw me in all stages of it. 

She shakes her head and wipes her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Kenma.” 

“I ran to the bathroom and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. I was so loud, the same boys from Karasuno came to the bathroom to sit with me because they heard me from the sleeping quarters,” I say, my voice cracking as I remember what happened last night. (Last night? I don’t know. How long have I been out? What time is it? Is it even the same day?) 

Mom bites her lip. “Is that when you… took the pills?” 

I shake my head. “No. Coach Nekomata heard me and he went to go yell at the boys. He nailed Tetsu and then talked to me. He was kind enough to let me sleep where the coaches were sleeping so I didn’t actually sleep on the restroom floor, but I only got a few hours. This morning during breakfast I took them.” 

She puts lets her chin drop and closes her eyes tight. “Kuroo told me that one of your mutual friends found you when you were swallowing them.” 

“Yeah. Bokuto. The guy with the spiky, dyed gray-white hair,” I reply, quietly. 

“He said you ran and locked yourself in a Janitor’s closet and they all heard the boy yelling and slamming on the door.” 

I stop looking at her. “Then I fell asleep.” 

“You passed out. You almost died.” 

I shrug. “It was comfortable.”

“I was so close to losing you, Kenma. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you,” she tells me, then lifts her hand to hold my chin up and look at her. “In the hallway, Kuroo asked the nurse if you were okay. When she said you were going to be alright, he started crying. I heard him tell the boy sitting next to him that if you killed yourself, he was going to go right after you.” 

I shake my head, but I can’t stop the tears from welling in my eyes. “He didn’t say that. He doesn’t love me.” 

She sighs and uses her other hand to comb her fingers through my hair. “I think he was just upset last night, Kenma.” 

I shake my head again. “No, Mama, you didn’t hear what he told them. He wouldn’t do that if he loved me!” I yell, before I start crying again. She’s quick to wipe the tears from under my eyes, but not quick enough to stop them from coming. 

“Kenma, do you know what happened after you fell unconscious?” 

I rub my cheeks and swipe her hands away. “No,” I spit, coughing up my tears. 

“Someone was able to unlock the door within ten minutes or something, then Kuroo ran to you and held you until the ambulance came. One of your teammates told me that he refused to let you go, no matter what the coaches and medics told him to do. He came here with you, Kenma.” 

I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it. Tetsurou doesn’t even love me. He never did—he proved that to me last night. He can’t start taking me for granted now that I’m gone—or, rather almost was. He was so cruel. He hurt me so much. He drove me to take all of those pills. 

My mom is about to speak again when the nurse walks in. 

“Kenma, there’s a boy out here who really wants to see you,” the nurse says. She has her hands crossed at her stomach, her smile is warm and inviting. I take a deep breath. 

“I don’t want to see him,” I murmur. She nods. 

“I understand, but he really wants to see you. He’s been here since you were admitted. He won’t go home,” she tells me, followed by an awkward laugh. “I think he just wants to see for himself that you’re okay.” 

I clench my teeth. “Who is it?” 

“He told me his name was Kuro,” she replies, and my heart aches immediately. _That’s what I call him._ Nobody else calls him that. He told her that on purpose. “He hasn’t sat down in three hours.” 

My mom sighs. “Kenma, let him come in. I’ll stay here with you to make sure he doesn’t say anything out of line. I’ll call him out on his bullshit,” she pleads, but I shake my head. I don’t want Tetsurou. He hurt me. He hurt me so bad. 

“I don’t want to see him,” I say, and the nurse looks down. My mom looks down as well. They tried—but I won’t break under their pressure. I don’t want to see him. That’s that. 

The nurse nods. “Alright. Should I tell him to go home?” she asks sweetly, her voice is honeyed with sympathy (or maybe it’s empathy. I think she understands me) and a little bit of disappointment. 

I nod. 

My mom sighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! here's another update! expect another one on friday or saturday! note that my curiouscat inbox is still open if you want a fic for christmas! i just had a huge concert last night so im really worn out, but im glad i could still get an update out on time. how is your day/night going? please leave kudos and comment, i love hearing from you! any predictions about the story?? thanks again! ily 
> 
> \- kelsey <3


	6. leave

After two weeks in the dreaded psych ward with a bunch of crazies, I’m cleared and I’m allowed to go home—much to my mother’s excitement. I still don’t like myself, but I had to tell the doctor I didn’t want to kill myself if I wanted to go home. 

Nobody really visited me because I don’t think anyone knew they could. And nobody likes me. Kuro never came back, thankfully. I miss him a lot, I won’t lie about that. I miss him so fucking much. But I can’t get over what he did to me. What he caused me to do. 

Anyways, I digress.

The wind is cool on my skin as my mom and I walk out of the hospital and into the fresh air, I take a long drag to inhale it. I haven’t been outside freely in a long time, it feels like. I hold my hands out and feel the wind caress my palms, as if the woman in the air is holding them. I grin. 

“You missed being outside?” My mom questions when she no doubtedly sees my excitement. I nod and take another breath of clean air surrounding me. I exhale loudly and brush a hand through my hair as we walk to her car. 

I see it in the distance—the white minivan. Even though I’m an only child, she still owns a minivan. She said it was cheap and she likes it, so that explains it. She’s had the car for ten years. It’s just me and her since I’ve never known my dad, so I’m the only one who complains about her car and she refuses to buy a new one no matter how embarrassed I told her I was when she used to drop me off at school in it. 

I smile, remembering middle school when that was my only concern. When I wasn’t madly ill in the head and my depression was only a small, lingering paint drop in the colossal canvas of my brain. 

My mom brings me into a weird side hug wrapping her left arm around my shoulders, and she sighs happily. She’s smiling. She’s just as happy as I am to be out of there. The hospital really brings you down. Especially the psych ward. 

“I’m so happy to see you walking out of there, Kenma,” she says, grin still plastered to her face. Her pretty brown eyes are crinkled and laugh line wrinkles appear on her forehead. She’s not gorgeous—but she’s my mom. I think she looks beautiful. Especially when she’s happy like this and her eyes glitter and sparkle. 

I grin back at her. “I can’t wait to get home.” 

I feel… peaceful.

When we arrive home, I greet my cat (I’ve missed her so much) and she follows me to my room where I immediately open my blinds and let the air in. I look around and wince upon seeing my bed—it’s still messed up and the sheets are wrinkled from when I last slept in it. With Kuro. After we had sex in it. 

My body guides me to the bed where I lie down and bury my head in (his) my pillow. It smells like him and I inhale the scent, my eyes tingling all the way. I miss him. His smile. His body. His laughter. His hugs. His kisses. The way I thought he cared for me—obviously I was wrong. I was so wrong. 

On my nightstand is my phone, which was taken from me when I was put in the psych ward. I check it to see over 200 notifications from the Nekoma volleyball group chat, Yamaguchi (I don’t know how he got my number), Shouyou (I don’t know how he got my number either), Bokuto, Coach Nekomata, and…Tetsurou. 

I immediately check what Tetsurou said to me. 

**Kuro** : hi kenma. i know you probably won’t see this since ur in the hospital… i’m sorry. i love you. 

The same day he texted again, two hours later. 

**Kuro** : i understand why u don’t want to see me. i get it. i just want to know that ur ok. plz text me if you can. i want to figure this out. 

I turn my phone off, knowing damn well he’ll see my read receipts and hoping he does. I’m angry. He can’t just text me like that after what he did. What he told everyone. How he treated me. I’m pissed, but I pick up my phone and check the rest of my texts. 

I check what Bokuto texted me next. It was from the same day Kuro texted me. 

**Bokuto** : hey kozume. please text someone to tell us if you’re alright. everyone is worried. i’m sorry i didn’t stand by you. i think you and tetsurou both made some bad decisions last night and he really is sorry about it. he never wanted it to go this far—he didn’t think it would. nobody did. 

I grit my teeth and leave him on read as well, sliding out of his texts and into Yamaguchi’s. I relax. He also texted the same day the others did. 

**Yamaguchi** : Hello it’s tadashi, lev gave me and hinata your phone number 

**Yamaguchi** : i’m super worried about you 

**Yamaguchi** : shit, kenma. i didn’t know you felt that way. i could’ve stopped it. i’m really sorry. i should’ve gone with you to the sleeping quarters. 

**Yamaguchi** : even daichi and suga have asked me if you’re doing okay. please text me back, i miss you and i’m worried. i want to know that you’re still alive and breathing. 

**Yamaguchi** : it’s been a week, kenma. hinata n i are still really anxious abt u... please talk to us. tell us you’re doing okay. give me ur address. i’ll come over after school and literally just sit with you for hours. i don’t care 

**Yamaguchi** : ugh i’m so sorry you probably have better friends than me just ignore me—i barely even know you. but i do care. and if you don’t have anyone else, you have me. idk what it is about you. i just.. i feel comfortable with you. probably bc you’re gay. and idk anyone else thatsgay. 

**Yamaguchi** : i’m sorry for spamming you. that’s weird. just.. just text one of us okay? idek if u have ur phone right now. lev says you’re alive, that’s good. he says you haven’t been at school though. i hope you’re doing ok 

The last text was two days ago. I smile. 

**Kenma** : hi tadashi. i’m sorry i’m just getting back to u now, i just got home from the psych ward at the hospital and they didn’t allow me to have my phone. it really makes me happy to see that you care so much—i don’t have many ppl that do. and it isn’t your fault. if it’s anyone’s, it’s my own. i was already feeling shit abt myself b4 the training camp and the kuroo situation didn’t make it any better. i should’ve reached out for help, but i didn’t. i’m so grateful for you. 

**Kenma** : here’s my address. you don’t have to come today, obviously. i know you’re in school rn. but.. just in case anything happens. 

I attach my address and send him the texts before checking Shouyou’s. 

**Shouyou** : hi hi kozume 

**Shouyou** : r u still in the hospital 

**Shouyou** : we r vry scared. 

**Shouyou** : ok u prob donr have ur phone 

**Shouyou** : text back when u do 

I grin and text him back. 

**Kenma** : hi i have my phone now. im ok. 

I check the group text, but I don’t read through it much. I just skim it—a lot of volleyball talk. Some of the boys asking how I’m doing. Some of the boys fighting. Yamamoto asking if they should kick me from the chat. Yaku saying he’ll kick Yamamoto first. Yamamoto being kicked as a joke and then added back. Lev constantly asking if they know anything about me. Yamamoto talking about a replace setter. Kuro telling him to shut up. Memes of Kuro from pictures taken at practice. Memes of Lev’s long legs. His face photoshopped onto a Daddy long leg spider (I do laugh at that one). A lot of shitposting. Then, I’m at the end of the thread. 

I think for a moment before I text the group chat. 

**Kenma** : hey guys. i just got home from the hospital, hopefully i’ll be back at school tomorrow. idk abt practice but i’m hoping i’ll be able to make it. how was tamahiko as setter 

I put my phone away and let the notifications roll in—I’m not in the mood to answer them. 

I nuzzle into my (Kuro’s) pillow instead and let his remaining aroma wash over me. It calms me down, even though I won’t admit to it. Even if I won’t admit to missing Kuro. _ I love him so much _ .  _ I miss him _ . I shouldn’t. 

Everything feels so complicated. My head feels complicated. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everybody! this week i put up the christmas tree with my family and went shopping. what have you done? speaking of christmas--i'm still taking asks at curiouscat.me/tabmyg for a personalized fic for the holidays since i celebrate. all you have to do is tell me your ao3 username, what fandom you want (my fandoms are listed in my ao3 profile), what ship, and any tropes or dynamics or plot you want. i want to give back to my readers!!! anyways, sorry this chapter was short and subpar to the ones ive written so far. i promise an actual plot is coming soon since we are out of the set-up stages now. and more character involvement!! anyways, thank you for reading and don't forget to leave kudos and comments if you like the fic so far. love you!!! 
> 
> \- kelsey <3


	7. visit

It’s Saturday. I was released on Thursday—I didn’t go to school yesterday. I should have, but my mom didn’t want me to. She wanted to spend time with me, you know, make sure I was still alive and kicking. Make sure I wasn’t just a zombie in my skin. I think she was pleasantly surprised by how well she thinks I’m doing. But I’ve always been good at lying and I’m not going to stop lying now. 

We watched a movie and I helped her make lunch for us. She told me about work and asked me about boys. I told her I never thought of them until Kuro. She told me she thinks Tetsurou is cute for me. Then I told her that Kuro called her a MILF a few years back and she shut her mouth pretty damn quickly. It was funnier than it was disappointing, thankfully. 

She asked, “What did you see in him?” when we were at the dining table eating noodles. She sat across from me and played with her acrylic nails (I’ve always wanted to try having them. It’s been such a pipe dream of mine) while we ate. 

“Hmm,” I hummed, recalling the past few years. Even if it hurt a little bit and my heart longed for him—I pushed myself through it. “He was attractive. Strong. He was really protective of me, I felt safe with him. He was… a good person…” I trailed off, I remember.  _ He’s not such a good person anymore, is he, Kenma?  _

Mom sighed. “I think that was all just a misunderstanding. You  _ did _ out him, Kenma,” she said, simply making conversation as we ate. She stabbed her fork into a piece of chicken and replied to herself, “You should text him. Talk to him about it. Has he called you at all?” 

“He texted me. Twice,” I murmured, angry she even suggested I talk to him. “I haven’t replied.” 

“I think you should,” she said, “Solving things between you two will help you a lot in the end. You’ll feel so much better about it.” 

I shook my head. “Okay,” I lied, but she didn’t know. She won’t know—it’s been five hours since lunch and I haven’t even thought about texting him. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to be around him. I want to heal by myself first… or maybe with Tadashi. He’s sweet. 

It’s around 8:00 now, the sky is dark. It’s winter, it’s cold, and I can’t help but yearn for Kuro to hold me and keep me warm. I’m so used to it—our sleepovers where we would lock my door and goof around before ‘accidentally’ falling asleep entangled in one another, waking up to the heat of one another lingering to our colorfully bruised skin. I’m more used to having him with me than not—it feels so strange to be lying by myself again. 

Kuro hasn’t texted me at all and I haven’t texted him either, like I told my mom I would. I text Tadashi and Shouyou though—tell them how today went. Tell them that I’m going back to school on Monday. I ask Tadashi to come over this weekend and hang out with me. 

I presume he’ll just drop by on Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning, I presume he’ll just text me about half an hour in advance. But no, when my phone dings with his reply, it says: 

**Tadashi** : Im coming now n i’m staying there 4 the weekend. 

I presumed wrong. I don’t even know who’s driving him. I live four fucking hours away from Miyagi. 

**Tadashi** : stay up for me 

**Kenma** : ok 

I stay up for him, though if he’s actually coming it would be midnight when he arrived. He’s fucking crazy—but I guess I would be that way too if it meant being around the only person who understands me. I think my mom understands me? I hope so. I don’t think Tadashi’s mom understands him. I don’t think anyone understands him. But I do. He’s a sweetheart. He’s just in love. 

While I wait, I go through my camera roll. Half of the pictures are of Kuro. Kuro with me. Kuro sleeping. Kuro laughing. Kuro with my cat. Kuro shopping. Selfies we took together. Pictures with him hugging on me and smiling. A picture he took while kissing me. 

It makes me angry—but more than anything, it makes me sad. I’m so disappointed. I’m depressed. And I’m fucking devastated. I miss him. I really do. It’s so stupid, but he’s everything to me. My best friend. My boyfriend. Better than anyone who ever tried to love me—because he loves me more. Or so I thought. 

It feels like my mind is just traveling in circles at this point. I’m having the same thoughts over and over again, the memories are a whirlpool that never ends and my head is starting to hurt from all the swimming. He’s everywhere I look. His pictures with me are on my wall. His scent is on my pillow. His hoodies are in my hamper. His fucking toothbrush is in my bathroom—he’s everywhere and I can’t get away from it. I don’t want to get away from it. He’s done me so wrong, it’s not right that I’m still so invested in him. 

He was my everything. And he dropped me like to him I was nothing. That fucking hurts. It won’t stop hurting—it’s nestled up in my heart and it’s festering like an ungodly possession. There’s a reason I tried to die. There’s a reason I still want to. 

It sucks. It’s depressing. And above all, it’s pathetic. But I don’t want to live a life without Kuro in it. Even if we’re just friends. Even if I barely ever see him. As long as I can reach my hand out and feel him beside me—I’ll be okay. But I can’t right now and I highly doubt, no, I  _ know _ he doesn’t want to be with me ever again. It hurts really bad. 

It feels like fifteen minutes that I’m lying here in my bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about Kuro and the way he used to kiss me and cuddle with me when it was cold or I was feeling sad. How it was only last week we did this—and now everything has changed. It feels like no time at all that I sulk in myself, but quicker than I realized my phone dings and Tadashi tells me he’s at my front door. 

I arise from my bed and walk downstairs quietly, as if my mom were asleep. I know she isn’t though, she’s lost so much sleep since the suicide attempt. She’s afraid that if she goes to sleep she’ll lose me. But she won’t. I wouldn’t do that to her, I don’t think. I love her too much to see her suffer like this. 

I open the front door and smile when I see Tadashi across from me, a bag in his arms. “Heya, Kenma,” he whispers, grinning from ear to ear. 

I beckon him inside. “Hey Tadashi,” I whisper in reply, then take him by the wrist to lead him upstairs to my room, hoping my mom’s sleeping. 

Alas, she isn’t. As we come up the stairs, the door to her room opens softly and I see her shadowed face in the doorframe, looking confused. I nod at her as if to tell her everything is okay, and I stop once Tadashi and I reach the top of the staircase. 

“This is Tadashi, Mom. I met him during the training camp. He’s my friend. Do you mind if he spends the weekend? He came down from Miyagi.” 

Her eyes widen. “Miyagi is so far…” she whispers delicately, her words as glassy and fragile as she looks. She looks so weary. I can’t help but feel bad knowing it’s because of me. 

Tadashi nods. “Yeah. I didn’t want Kenma to be alone though. Especially after what happened,” he says, louder than the two of us have been. It shocks my mom a little bit, but she eases into his tone happily. 

“That was very sweet of you… Tadashi,” she says, stumbling on his name a bit. He just grins, however, not minding her forgetfulness. “Kenma always will have me though. You don’t need to worry about that.” 

He nods again, beaming still. “Of course. I just figured he would like some new company though. A friend.” 

Mom nods slowly in reply, tiredly. “Okay. I’m going to bed…,” she slurs, now uninterested since she knows who Tadashi is and obviously trusts him. “Don’t stay up too late…,” she murmurs, sleepily. 

I hug her and let her kiss me on the head, even though Tadashi is right there. But he doesn’t mind. He’s still smiling, just happy to be living and to be here. I wish I was like that. “Goodnight Kenma, I love you,” she whispers to me and kisses my cheek as well. 

“Goodnight, Mama. Sleep well, and don’t worry, okay? Tadashi will make sure I’m doing alright throughout the night. You don’t need to come check up on me at all.” 

She sighs and holds me close. “I won’t set any alarms to wake myself up… but if I do happen to wake up on my own during the night, I’m going to get up and make sure you’re sleeping alright.” 

“Alright, Mama,” I say in return. She doesn’t want to let me go, but I pry myself away and she smiles wearily at me before retreating into her room and shutting the door. 

Tadashi grins at me when I look back at him. “She loves you a lot,” he states, though I already knew that. 

I nod. “Yeah. I love her too.” 

I lead him towards my room and he follows me inside. I turn the light on so he can look around, figuring he’s probably curious about what it looks like. He’s immediately drawn to the cork board I have above my desk, though. It’s covered in pictures of Tetsurou, and he notices quickly. He touches a few of them and moves on to look at everything else. 

“Welcome to my room,” I sigh and thump down on my bed. He continues to walk around the tiny space and look at every crevice to learn as much about me as he possibly can. 

“You really like video games, don't you?” he asks, to which I’m surprised because he doesn’t ask about Tetsu. 

“Uh, yeah. They’re fun,” I murmur, pulling my phone off my nightstand to check for notifications. One from Shouyou. A few from the Volleyball chat. I don’t open any of them. 

“Cool,” Tadashi says and sits himself down on my bed beside me. He sighs. 

“You’re tired,” I say, to which he nods. “Let’s do something in the morning.” He nods to that as well. 

“Where do you want me to sleep?” He asks, to which I throw myself off the bed and stand up, stretching out. 

“On my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

He shakes his head. “That’s dumb. You can sleep in the bed too. It’s big enough.” 

I cock an eyebrow. “Tadashi, we’re both gay.” 

“Yeah, but I’m not gay for you and you’re not gay for me. Problem solved,” he rolls his eyes and slaps the sheets beside him. “Don’t torture yourself. Imagine how many spiders are under your bed right now. I heard that there’s always a spider within six feet of you.” 

It doesn’t take much more convincing for me to sit back on my bed after that. 

He grins. “Alright! Well, I’m going to sleep. Driving isn’t fun.” 

It’s almost comical, how quickly he knocks out after he says that to me. 

But even then, I can’t seem to stop myself from staying up and thinking about Kuro and how much I miss him. 

It’s around four in the morning when my Mother catches me that I finally fall asleep. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi sorry i updated so late!! im thinking of updating again this weekend to make up for it, and since my exams are next week and i wont be very active. i hope you had a great week! if you like horror aus, you can read my interactive horror haikyuu au on twitter at @keijibells. its ongoing and the readers make all big decisions through daily polls. its mostly social media and im really proud of it!!! that does not mean this fic will be abandoned, however. my updates may move to once a week though if i take on any other projects. anyways, as always, tell me what you thought of this chapter and leave me some love!!! i always love hearing from you guys <3
> 
> \- kelsey


	8. talk

When I wake up in the morning, Tadashi isn’t beside me. 

The sunlight pours through my window blinds and lies strewn across my carpet, illuminating all the dust in the air. I furrow my eyebrows. Nobody ever opens my windows in the morning. 

I sit up and look around the room playing ‘spot the difference’, trying to guess how long Tadashi has been up. His bag is sitting slouched against my bed, the zipper is open and his clothes from yesterday sit on top. But aside from that, I see no clues. 

I check my clock on the nightstand beside me; it’s 11:28.  _ Shit _ . 

I throw a hand through my hair before throwing the sheets off me and sending myself running down the stairs to find Tadashi. Instead, however, he greets me at the staircase with a confused look in his eyes. 

“You okay?” He asks, looking me up and down. He has new clothes on and he obviously brushed his hair, though he still has cowlicks standing up in the back. It’s endearing, I guess. 

I nod. “Sorry.” 

He nods in return and motions for me to follow him. He then leads me to the kitchen, but I don’t see my mom there. She’s always in the kitchen. I scrunch my nose. “Where’s my mom? She’s usually here.” 

“She went out,” Tadashi smiles. “Is that okay?” 

I nod. “She doesn’t like to leave me though,” I say, skeptically. 

He shrugs. “I told her I would make sure you were alright. She’s probably been so worried about you lately.” 

I nod. “She has been.” I scratch the back of my neck and laugh, albeit very awkwardly. “She’s very protective.” 

Tadashi’s smile lightens. “She cares about you a lot. I can tell that much.” 

I nod again and sit down at the mini table and chairs set we have in our kitchen. Tadashi remains standing up, he looks in our fridge. “Are you hungry?” I ask.

“Do you want to make something?” Tadashi asks in return, peeking around in our cabinets and our pantry. 

“Sure,” I say, then stand up. I physically move him aside to help him find a pancake mix that we have, he scoffs as I hand it to him. 

We’re mostly quiet as we go on finding ingredients and pull out pans and utensils. I find a few eggs left in our fridge and pull those out, he makes the pancake batter and whines when it hurts his arms. I flick him with flour, because they do it in the movies and I want to see what it’s like. He flicks me with pancake batter—which is disgusting and not fun at all like I expected. I make myself cry about it. He feels bad and tries to help me, but I punch him in the gut and laugh about how he fell for it. We go back to attempting to cook.

He asks, “Does your mom know that you’re gay?” as I’m playing with an eggshell, waiting for my pan to heat up so I can actually do something with the eggs. 

I nod and clip off the eggshell edges with my fingernails. “I told her when I was in the hospital.” 

“Is she okay with it? I mean, obviously she is since you’re still here and she still protects you—but how does she feel about it?” 

I grimace and keep myself quiet until I finish rounding off the eggshell. I stand up from the stool I’m sitting on and walk over to Tadashi, who is very confused as I place the half eggshell on his head. “I made you a crown so no one sees your pieces of hair sticking up.” 

He snorts and pushes the shell off, but I catch it before it hits the floor and breaks. “Fine,” I say. “It’s my crown now.” I put it on top of my head and he laughs. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” He says, mid-laugh. I sit back down on my stool and pick up a spatula turner, assuming the pan is hot enough now to scramble my eggs. 

“She is okay with it. She asks me about Tetsurou a lot,” I say, working on the eggs. I hear the sound of metal scraping, so I assume Tadashi is putting some of the batter in his pan. “Why? Does your mom know?” 

He nods. “She does. But she pretends I never told her. She still points out girls she thinks would be pretty for me and she still jokes with my grandma about how I haven’t had a girlfriend yet. I think deep down inside she knows, she just doesn’t want to admit to it.” 

I frown. “I’m sorry, Tadashi.” 

He shrugs. “It’s okay. Now I know Hinata will support me at least if I decide to come out during high school.” 

I nod, not realizing the egg shell crown still sits atop my hair until it falls off and I pull some ninja trick to catch it before it breaks on the ground. I sputter, “And you’ll always have me. Even if I live four hours away. Obviously that didn’t stop you.” 

He cracks a grin, I smile back at him and set the eggshell on the counter top. 

“Does Tsukki know? Have you told him?” 

Tadashi’s smile fades quickly. “Not yet. I think I’m going to tell him soon though… not that I have a crush on him. Just that I like boys. But I'm really scared."

“I think that's a good idea,” I reply. “You’ll have to tell me how he takes it.” 

“If I decide to tell him, I will,” Tadashi says, biting his lip. He flips the pancake he’s working on. I scoop the eggs off the pan and put them on a plate, then crack two more. “How are you and Kuroo doing?” 

I can’t help but curl my mouth at the sound of his name off someone else’s tongue. “We’re not.” 

“You’re not what?” He asks, confused. He bumbles his hair around to the music playing in his head and I can’t help but grin. He’s kinda cute. 

“We’re not doing. He texted me and I haven’t texted him back. I’m angry.” 

Tadashi nods. “You have every right to be angry. He was a dick to you.” 

Finally  _ someone _ agrees. My mom doesn’t. 

“You’re right,” I say. “My mom doesn’t think so. She says I should have pity on him since I outed him.” 

Tadashi shrugs. “You did out him, but he took it really badly. I think you both have faults in this situation, but I think his are much greater than yours. I think you both had reason for what you did, I just don’t think we know his reasoning.” 

I grit my teeth. “He’s a dick, he doesn’t have reasoning. He’s been using me all this time.” 

The first year shakes his head. “I think he genuinely cares about you. He cried at the door when you locked yourself in the janitor’s closet and he didn’t let you go even when the ambulance came. He didn’t want to let you go. I think he loves you just as much as he did before this all happened—I just think he was scared. But that’s just my thinking. I obviously don’t know him like you do.” 

I don’t reply, but Tadashi’s mere thought sends my head reeling with new thoughts and ideas. 

“I miss him,” I blurt. 

Tadashi nods. “Of course you do. He’s been such a big part of your life for such a long time.” 

I shake my head. “But I’m still angry. I’m really hurt.” 

“If you text him back, you guys could talk about it,” Tadashi suggests. He’s through at least four pancakes now, so he pulls two empty plates down from our dish cabinet and uses a turner to put them on our respective plates. “I don’t see any harm in it.” 

“I’m not going to text him back,” I tell him. I already decided—I’m not changing my mind now. 

Tadashi shrugs and I help him put our eggs onto the plates as well. I open the fridge to grab the syrup and I ask him, “Oh. Did you want sausage too?” 

“Sure. We can make that up too.” 

I pull it out of the fridge and set it on the counter. He hands me silverware and my plate, I hand him the syrup bottle. 

“Anyways,” I say, scraping off the eggs pan so I don’t have to get another one for the sausage. “How are you, Tadashi? How’s your boy?” 

Tadashi perks up a little at the mention of him, it’s sweet. I smile, watching as my new first year friend breaks out into a giggly smile. His cheeks flush, I wish I could capture this picture of him now, it seems to lift my spirits as well. 

“Tsukki is good,” he tells me, then sighs, though he’s still smiling happily. “I want to take him to the zoo when it gets warmer out. A date, you know? Though I wouldn’t call it that. We would go just as… friends.” 

I cock my head. “Why don’t you just tell him? I know you want to. We were just talking about it!" 

Tadashi shakes his head. “I can’t. Not during the volleyball season. Not while his brother is home…,” he sighs, and this time his smile falls away from us. The mood is a lot more serene as he drops slices of sausage onto the pan and they sizzle on top of his words. “I’m scared of what he’ll say, Kenma. I don’t want to lose my best friend.” 

I slouch on the counter and set my chin in my palm, elbow resting against the empty wooden knife-holder thingy. (It’s empty for good reason. You probably already know.) “I was scared to ask Kuro when I started gaining feelings for him. But then he kissed me first. You don’t know how Tsukki might be feeling, Tadashi.” 

He looks down. I flip the sausages lazily, yawning. “Kenma, what if he tells our team?” 

I shake my head. “I don’t think he will. He was very kind to me when he knew I was gay, wasn’t he? He sat across from me at the table and didn’t tell me to go away. He walked me back to school alongside you, Shouyou, and Shouyou's setter.” 

Tadashi sighs, he doesn’t agree. He looks down at his plate and eats, ignoring me. I stay quiet too and leave us to eat our breakfast. When the sausage is ready I give him a few pieces and less to myself, and we eat that too. We’re still quiet, though no doubt he’s thinking about our conversation. I am too—just a different part. When we talked about Tetsurou. 

He said the same thing as my mom did. I still don’t know if I believe it. I’m still mad that they both said it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! sorry for such a late update--ive been in a writing slump this past week due to my semester exams and hosting a christmas party. i probably will not update again until after christmas because im writing ficlets for christmas gifts currently. anyways, i wanted to focus a little bit more on kenma's depression this time around. i want to start by saying i have absolutely NO intention to romanticize it. i myself have struggled from major clinical depression and still do, so yes, my experience is reflected onto his. as you see tetsurou become more of a prominent character, i hope you will see also that from his and my own perspective, i have no intention to romanticize suicide or anything to do with it. someone came to me, upset about how i portray kenma's development and thought process with his depression, so i thought it was something that needed to be addressed. anyhow, thank you for reading! leave kudos if youre loving the story so far, bookmark if you havent to get my updates, and leave a comment telling me how you feel! do you think kenma's feelings of tadashi are as superficial as he thinks they are?
> 
> \- kelsey <3


	9. hold

My mom puts me to bed. 

Tadashi is in the shower, it’s around 10 at night. My mom, she looks tired, but she looks content. I like seeing her happy. I’ve never seen her as happy as I did today, when she came home to Tadashi and I playing Minecraft. I’ve never seen her more excited to see me playing a video game, since I usually just sleep when I’m feeling depressed and leave all of my devices to the side. 

She’s tucking me into my bed, I’m sleeping on Kuro’s pillow and I’m wearing one of his hoodies. There’s no doubt that I miss him, and I guess I am a little less angry than I was during our whole ordeal. I don’t feel like I want to kill myself whenever I look into a mirror, so that’s good. 

My mom brushes my hair out of my face and pulls my blanket up to my bed--she’s smiling at me. Her eyes are glistening. “I love you, Kenma,” she says, dropping to set a kiss on my forehead. “Try to sleep, okay? If you can’t sleep you can always come sleep with me…” she suggests, though she knows that’s not something I’ve done since I was a kid. I appreciate the thought though, even if I blush a little bit. 

“I’ll be okay, Mama. I have Tadashi,” I tell her. She nods. 

“Of course.” 

I reach my hand up and grab hers before she starts to walk away. She looks back with a soft gaze upon her eyes. I grin. “I love you, Mama. Thank you for everything that you’ve done for me.” 

She rubs her thumb over mine and her smile extends to her cheeks. Her eyes look glassy, but she leaves the room before she starts crying in front of me. I know it meant a lot to her, especially since I haven’t said anything like that in a long time. But I do mean it—I am always grateful for everything she does for me. I just assume she knows, but I don’t think she does. She knows now though. 

After a few minutes of me thinking to myself, the door to the bathroom opens and Tadashi walks out in his cute fluffy pajamas with wet hair sticking up in all directions.

He looks at me and splits a fat grin. “Have you been waiting for me?” 

I grimace. “I thought we were going to watch a movie.” He rolls his eyes and brings his towel to his head to dry his hair. 

“You were serious when you said you wanted to watch ‘Cars’?” He asks, shaking his towel so violently I think he might bring his head with it. 

I nod, ignoring his violent efforts to dry his brunet hair. “We don’t have to watch ‘Cars’,” I scoff. “I just wanted to watch a movie.” 

He shrugs and sits beside me on the bed, pulling his towel into his lap. He rakes through his hair with his hands, humming all the while. He looks so cute, my heart wants me to reach up and embrace him and dip my lips into the nape of his neck. But my brain knows I’m just lovesick and deprived of the affection Kuro used to give me constantly, so I shove the thoughts to the back of my head and smile at him when he looks around my room, holding his towel out.

“Go hang it on the bathroom door,” I suggest, and he follows the instruction easily before slipping into my bed beside me, huffing as his semi-wet hair falls onto my pillow. He turns to look at me, I turn off my back so we’re facing each other. He grins. 

He reaches his hand out and brushes it through my hair, I feel the heat of my cheeks as they light up. If this were happening before I went off on Tetsurou, it would have no effect on me. But I’ve missed Kuro so bad, it’s like any half-inviting glance or gesture is driving me up the wall.  _ I’m such a hopeless romantic _ , I think to myself as I bring my hand up to hold his when it rests against my cheek. 

I know I shouldn’t--but I can’t help it. He has a crush, he has a boy already. He’s going to be taken here soon. But I can’t help but savor any physical affection from someone other than my mother that I can get. “Thanks for coming over this weekend, Tadashi,” I murmur. 

He nods, his smile softens and he runs his hand through my hair once more. “I saw something in you that night at the training camp,” he says. He’s not looking at me, he’s looking at my hair as he pulls dyed strands through his fingers and twists it. “Something I wish I could see in myself.” 

“What’s that?” I ask, my voice small and weak as he moves closer to me, inch by inch. 

“Courage,” he murmurs, though I hear it crystal clear. He combs through my hair again before letting it all drop against my head. He brushes his thumb over my cheek before retracting his hand and finally making eye contact with me. “You were the person I’ve been wanting to be for the longest time, Kenma. I’ve been struggling with myself for such a long time. I can barely stand up for others, let alone myself in front of my entire volleyball team and a few others.” 

I don’t look at him as he continues. 

“Kenma, I feel closer to you than I do to people I’ve known for all of my life. It’s not just because you’re gay--though I do feel like I can talk about anything with you.” He smiles and brings his hand forth to lift my chin up so I’m looking at him. “I look up to you. I feel like… I don’t know. Maybe it was some weird connection. Maybe I wanted to do for you what others have done for me. Maybe I wanted to be there for you through hard times because I would’ve been heartbroken if Tsukki wasn’t there for me. I don’t completely know, yeah? But I know I’m really glad to be here. And I would do anything to keep being your friend and be close to you, even if we live four hours apart and we won’t see one another often. I care a lot about you.”

He wraps his arms around me and lets me cry into his chest. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” I murmur, snuggling into him. He’s not Kuro, he’s not strong or very reassuring and he’s not good with affection and he doesn’t know what I like, but he’s still there. He still cares a lot, and he combs his hands through my hair as I cry on him, my arms latched around his stomach. 

“You’re doing a lot better than the last time I saw you,” he says. 

“I’m doing a lot better with you here. My mom has noticed,” I tell him, truthfully. I have been doing better with him here. He’s helped me to take my mind off Kuro, especially since I can talk to him about a lot more than I can talk to my mom about. “You’re such a sweetheart, Tadashi. Did you know that?” 

He giggles. “I’m glad you think so. Tsukki says I’m too nice. I let people walk over me.” 

I shake my head. “There’s strength in being kind.” 

Tadashi rests his head on top of mine. “It never feels that way.” 

I sigh. “I know.” 

It’s not hard to fall asleep after that, even though we don’t end up watching a movie like I initially wanted to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello fellas. another update wooo!!! what are you thinking? do you like the yamaken content as much as i am? leave kudos if you haven’t, bookmark so you’re caught up whenever i update, and leave a comment telling me what you think! i love to hear from you guys! i’m so excited to keep writing as the story is coming along. look for an update this saturday!!
> 
> kelsey <3


	10. think

Tadashi leaves on Sunday and I feel that familiar numbness succumb me once again; he’s gone and I’m left alone. My mom notices almost immediately and offers to take me out, but I just shake my head and droop up the stairs to my room where I cry myself back into another twelve hour sleep. I fall into little comas like that often nowadays. Whether I do it because I have nothing better to do, or whether I do it to escape my life, I don’t know. It’s soothing, even if it isn’t the best way to cope with my screwy thoughts. 

When I wake, moonlight and the blue of nighttime flood through my blinds of which are still open from when Yamaguchi opened them this morning. Er,  _ yesterday _ morning. It’s three a.m., I feel as if I’ve awoken from a fever dream when I check my phone and have no notifications, and I don’t hear my mother shuffling around. 

I go to the window and pull the blinds up, sliding the thick glass to open myself up to the vulnerability of the black sky and cold wind pouring into my small room. I hear owls in the distance as I breathe deeply, cheeks tight from the tear stains. I must’ve been crying during my sleep. 

The sky is so dark, but it’s littered with hope—bright, scattered dots cover the blanket of the night and pulse like a shared heartbeat. I think of Tetsurou, how we used to share one heart. How we were entwined in one another. I wonder if a red string still connects us, or if I happened to snip it when I yelled at him that night. 

I miss him. I wish he was here to tell me to go back to sleep. I wish I could text him and tell him that I was awake, to ask if he was too. I wonder if he lies awake now, dreaming about me lucidly. I wonder if I fill his thoughts as he’s asleep, I wonder if he regrets what he’s done. I wonder if he blames my suicide attempt on himself. 

I was diagnosed with major clinical depression a few years back. In middle school, I remember. It felt impossible to be alive, I went mute for a few months. My mother worried, thought it was because of her divorce with my father. That might have been the trigger, but I don’t think it was the root cause. I didn’t really mind them breaking things off, both of them were still evident in my life. (Well, not anymore. My dad drifted apart. He’s probably gambling his life away under the rising sun in America. He really loved America, I remember that much about him.) 

My mother thought I had anxiety because she had it and took medication for it, but that was far from the truth. She had my pediatrician prescribe me her anxiety pills in a low dose, but they didn’t help. Thankfully, they didn’t harm me either. But they didn’t work and I slowly stopped taking them, not telling her until she noticed the bottle wasn’t emptying. 

It was Kuro, my childhood best friend, who went to my mother and suggested she take me to a therapist. I felt safe talking to him, I didn’t even realize that it was concerning when 13-year-old me talked to him about my pipe dream of being six feet under. I told him stories about how I wanted to meet God, how I saw angels in my bedroom closet. (That wasn’t a lie—I still remember the encounters vividly. My mother doesn’t believe it, but Tetsurou did. He always believed me, and I never lied to him.) 

I wondered aloud how it would feel to run my mother’s razor across my skin, how it would feel to cut all of my hair off and rip my jeans. The last two might have just been an emo phase, but it didn’t help with the apparent cutting hyperfixation I had. He told my mom about that over tea when I was in the shower, I remember. We were so young, but I suffered so much and it was nothing he could fix by himself. 

I haven’t really gotten better, to be completely honest. I had a good year after I started seeing my therapist and was given medication that actually worked, but I don’t think it’s working anymore. I decided to up my dose a few months ago, but I didn’t tell anyone about it. I needed to see my therapist once a week instead of once a month, but I was scared that my mom didn’t have the money for it. So I said nothing and then attempted suicide at the training camp. 

The pill dose I was taking—it wasn’t a good idea. I think instead of helping like it initially did, it had the reverse effect. I felt more suicidal, I was irritable, and I was so tired all of the time. Not to mention my sex drive went through the roof, I was so horny all the time and it was taking a toll on Kuroo, obviously. That was another unsolved problem in our relationship. 

I don’t think he was really comfortable having sex with me. Though he suggested it first, I was so quick to jump at the opportunity that I didn’t give him time to think. We were only high schoolers. It was consensual, yes, and it was above the age of consent (which… is  _ very _ low here in Japan) but it wasn’t comfortable for us teenagers. I was a year younger than him, and I think that made him feel as if he had to watch over me more. 

With my mental illness, I think he suffered a little bit as well. He never dealt with the anxiety like my mother, or the depression like me, but he was constantly taking care of me. Doing whatever I asked of him, having sex with me whenever I was whiny and hot for him. I don’t know why he hid us though, and that pissed me off. 

Tetsurou and I, we were pretty good at communicating. (Well, I was. He didn’t really say much, just fixed whatever he was doing wrong or that made me feel less.) He brought me up, he changed parts of himself just for me, and that was more noble and loving than I had ever had. I know deep down that he shouldn’t have changed for me, and now I regret making him. I wonder how badly I affected him. Maybe that's why he didn’t want to tell anyone about us. Maybe he didn’t want to be with me, no matter how many times he told me those three meaningful words on a daily basis. 

My depression and my needs though, they weren’t the end-all. If he didn’t want me, he should have said so. He should have dumped me if he didn’t want to be open with me. It took a toll on me, I remember the month before the training camp I thought about it every single night. How much I would love to go on a date, wondering if my Kuro felt the same way. 

I went off on him at the training camp, and I still don’t know what made me do it. Maybe it was because he was just kissing me in the bathroom before we went out. Maybe it was the pills making me so irritable. Maybe it was because I was tired. Maybe I was just sick of walking alone. Maybe I was mad that Bokuto had to give me his jacket. (Well, I know I was mad about that. But not  _ that _ mad.) I don’t know why I did it, but I don’t regret it. 

It showed his true character better than anything else ever has. It opened my eyes to the world of men and their real thoughts better than anything else ever has. I still don’t know why he did it, why he acted that way. But I don’t care, to be completely honest. What he did was unforgivable in my eyes. 

He wasn’t the cause of me trying to commit suicide, but he was the one who flipped the switch in my head to actually do it. I had been thinking about suicide and wanting to die since middle school. That wasn’t because of him. But without him, I didn’t know what the fuck I would do. He was everything to me, and without my everything, I knew I would have nothing. So I shot all of the pills I could. 

I know now that it was a stupid idea. I’m not actively trying to kill myself now, so that’s good. But I can’t say that death still doesn’t linger in the back of my brain. I was wrong when I said he was my everything, and I’m glad I was proved wrong. I had others supporting me. My mom and Tadashi, definitely. Hinata, some. Lev, a little bit. My coach. The doctors at the hospital. It was the best shock I’ve ever had, to be honest. That’s more people than I ever thought loved me. 

My thoughts begin to drift away from me—I’m tired. I’m always tired, so it doesn’t surprise me that my half-day nap hasn’t had any effect. I rub my eyes and I take one final exhale into the darkness before shutting my window and closing the blinds.

I go back to bed and fall asleep. Kuro is on my mind, I won’t lie about that. But I don’t resent it. 

The mere thought of him comforts me as I slip away, once again. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I’m back with another chapter. I know there’s no dialogue, so I’m hoping you’ll still enjoy it. Many of you have asked about the point of view, to which I’ll reply: it’s always going to be kenma! I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to have an epilogue, but if i do it might not be from his perspective. I hope you all are having a great day! Make sure to leave kudos if you haven’t, bookmark so you can always be caught up, and leave a comment telling me your thoughts!! I love hearing from you guys!! Your comments always make my day :)
> 
> Kelsey <3


	11. fly

On Monday, my mom doesn’t wake me up to make me go to school. I wake up late, the clock in front of me blaring ‘10:13’ in big red letters, my phone ringing up with notifications from my volleyball team’s group chat. 

I still feel tired, but I don’t go back to sleep. Instead of succumbing to the will of my mind, I walk downstairs. As I follow the cascade of steps, I begin to hear humming as well as sizzling (though one obviously comes from a person, the other from a pan). It’s my mom, I see as I walk into the kitchen. I don’t know who else it could have been, I don’t know why I had hoped that it was Tadashi. He’s in Karasuno, four hours away. Back at school, most likely, while I’m here.

When my mom hears my footsteps into the kitchen, she spins around with a smile on her face and says, “Good morning, Kenma.”

I sit down at our little booth-table and sigh. “Hi, Mama.”

I don’t attempt to smile. I’m so tired. I miss Tadashi’s presence—I kind of miss volleyball, even. 

“Are you feeling okay, Sweetheart?” She asks, which tugs at my gut a little bit. Kuro used to call me that—along with so many other cute endearment names.  _ Baby. Babe. Sweetheart. Honey. Sugar. Kitten. Doll. Sweet boy. Angel. Dear. Bub. Sunshine.  _

_ Fuck _ , I miss him so much. 

I don’t even try to lie. “No, I’m not,” I tell her. Because I’m not okay. Because it’s bad. It’s gotten too bad. I need new pills. I need to tell her that. 

She turns away from her cooking to look at me with her crystalline eyes. I have my dad’s caramel eyes, sadly. Her dark, doe eyes are so sharp and beautiful. You can see little universes captivated in them. 

“Kenma, what are you feeling?” She asks, voice light. As if she’s going to shatter me. She’s hesitant, careful, eyes watching carefully as if I’m going to pull a knife out on myself in front of her very eyes and she’ll miss it.

“I’m feeling sad. Tired. I miss Kuro, I hate myself…,” I say, voice beginning to trail off as I reach the knot in my stomach, the ache in my head. My eyes sting, they begin to cry as I whisper, “I don’t want to be here, Mama. I just want to end it all.”

She sets down her spatula and walks towards me slowly, bringing herself to wrap her arms around my fragile body and frail mind. She kisses my hair as mothers do, surrounding me in her light. She’s like an angel, she reminds me so much of one. She’s my saving grace, I know it as she whispers, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t fix that on my own, Sweetheart.”

I cry harder, and she does too. I let her hold me close, I want her to. I feel comfortable in her arms. Unlike when I’m enclosed with Tetsurou, I know she won’t leave me. She won’t leave like Dad did, like Tetsurou did, like Tadashi did. She is right here, she is right next to me. And she will always be there. 

She is what has kept me down. And when I didn’t have her with me, I began to float. I tried to fly away, but I was saved (sadly), and she has kept me down since then. 

“Kenma, how can I help you?” She asks me, her head on my shoulder and mine on hers. Her hair is brushed up against my cheek, and mine is pressed against hers. Her strong arms envelope me and I don’t want them to be anywhere else. 

“I need new pills, Mama,” I murmur into her sweater, tears drenching the Sherpa material on her shoulder. She nods, and I continue, “Is… is there any possibility that I can see my therapist more often?”

She nods again. “Of course, Sweetheart,” She replies, hugging me tighter and rubbing my back with her acrylic nails. I sigh into her and she takes the pain away, replacing my emptiness and numbness with her love. “Let’s schedule now, okay? With the pediatrician and with your therapist.” 

I nod and pull away from her. She takes her breakfast (and mine) off the pan and sets it aside as she goes to grab her phone, coming back with a plate of food to sit beside me. She hands me the plate, but I don’t eat. I’m not hungry, so I ignore it and peep over her shoulder as she emails my therapist. “This week?”

“Please,” I say. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t be sorry, Kenma. You can’t control everything that goes on in your head. It’s a lot more than mind over matter in this situation, I don’t expect you to fix it yourself.”

I nod again, awkwardly. She sends the email then calls my doctor. I stare at my food, it’s mocking me. Telling me I’m going to die if I stop eating. And even with my mother next to me, I can't help but think:  _ Good. Maybe I want to die _ . 

When breakfast is finished, (I don’t eat anything, my mom doesn’t make me. She just sighs sadly) I go to the living room and sit on the couch. I can’t go back to my room, it’s foggy with depression and self-loathing. I need a new location to let my hatred and sadness seep. So I sit quietly on the couch, and my mother joins me with a book in her hands. 

She looks at my gaming consoles for a few seconds and I watch her, then look at the floor. She probably thinks it’s her fault that I’m not playing anymore. I think for her, the most tell-tale sign of when I’m feeling well is when I have enough energy and interest to play videogames. On a really good day, I’ll even wear my headset and play with others. Or I’ll excitedly ramble to her about my progress, about new games, and about my favorite characters and plots. 

She asks, “Do you want to play a video game, Kenma?”

I don’t make any movements, I don’t respond. I stare at the floor and hate myself for the way I can’t find the heart to tell her how I’m really, truly feeling.

“Kenma?” She asks again, placing her hand on my shoulder and cocking her head to try and meet my eyes. I don’t look at her. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

My eyes itch so bad, they’re swollen and red. From all the crying I did yesterday, last night, this morning. I know my acne is coming back too, it always does when I suddenly stop taking care of myself like this. My hair is oily, I know that. I haven’t showered since Tadashi visited, it’s been too difficult to do anything. 

“Mama,” I whisper, finally finding the nerve to look up and into her eyes. She shows so much sympathy for me, but I know she can’t imagine what I’m going through. She has no idea how bad this really is, how absolutely horrible I actually feel. 

I wish I could go back to being her perfect little boy. To playing videogames and making her laugh with all of my stupid jokes. To having friends and inviting them over every weekend. To hating naps and making my dad stay up all night playing games with me. I wish I could go back to being happy. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to be here. I never asked for this, I never asked to be this way. It feels as if nobody understands what I’m going through. The only person that did, well, I threw him away. 

Mama and I, we’re still looking at one another. 

I start crying. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Back at it again with another update. I know it may seem minimal and boring, but I promise more characters are coming soon and more action and movement in the plot is beginning to arrive as the catalyst for next chapter sets in. I will most likely update on Wednesday or Thursday since the next chapter is done, it just needs editing. So please look forward to that! Make sure to leave kudos if you haven’t already, bookmark this fic so you can be updated when I update, and leave a comment telling me what you think and what you think will happen! I always love to hear from you guys. Have a good week, and happy new year! 
> 
> Kelsey <3


	12. blame

It’s nearing four in the afternoon when a solid knock is placed on our front door. My mother peeps her head through the wall arch between the dining room and living room to look at me and smile before going to answer the door. She was previously in the dining room writing letters, and I’ve been lying on the couch. I took a nap earlier, and my mom covered me with a quilt at some point—but now I'm awake (sadly) and I’m supposedly ‘watching’ TV. It’s just background noise to my thoughts though. 

I sigh, hearing the door creak open, followed by my mother’s chirpy public-speaking voice. Almost immediately thereafter I stop listening to the small conversation at the front door. I don’t know who had knocked, probably a solicitor. I don’t really care either. I continue drawing circles on the carpet with my pointer finger, head aching as I try to stop my thoughts from racing. 

But I can’t ignore it for long, as my mom calls out from the foyer, “Kenma? Are you awake?” 

I groan in reply and sit up, hearing the door close. She invited the fucker inside, I assume by the heavier pair of footsteps following hers from the hallway and towards where I laze about in the living room. My mind is flooded with thoughts of who would want to see me—but I don’t like many of the answers I manage to conjure and I throw the thought away. 

My mom positions herself in the door frame as she reaches the wall arch with a smile on her face. “You have a visitor.”

“Tadashi?” I ask quickly, beginning to throw my blanket off before she shakes her head. I sulk in on myself and cover myself back up. That’s when the  _ other _ possibilities start to mess with my head. 

“Tell them I don’t want to ta—,” I suddenly stop when a familiar face appears alongside my mom, a soft frown on his lips. Oh  _ fuck _ no. “Bokuto,” I cough. 

He nods, face slight. He doesn’t look as excited or moody as he usually does, he looks as if he’s dull. Numb. Emotionless. Careless. His body language tells me everything I need to know. He doesn’t want to be here, but he is. I don’t want to find out the reason—I would rather him just leave right now and spare us the awkward conversation. Instead of leaving, however, he says, “Can I talk to you?” 

I sigh and scoot towards one end of the couch. I really don’t want him here, but I know my mother would throw a fit if I didn’t hear him out after he came a long way to see me. I don’t even know how he got my address. “I guess so, since you’re already in my living room.”

He nods and walks through our clean carpet in his dirty sneakers to sit beside me, (fake) smiling at my mom as he passes her. “Thanks for letting me in, Mrs. Kozume.” He should have taken his shoes off at the door like any respectful person would. Now I see his intention. He’s here for a reason and it isn’t because he cares about how I’m doing. 

My mother smiles lightly before leaving us to be, which I absolutely  _ dread _ . I want her to sit beside me and glare at him if he says anything wrong. He is on Tetsurou’s side, after all. Even after vouching for me all of those months when I wanted to come out! I don’t know if I trust him anymore. Well, I do know, that’s a lie. I don’t trust him at all. 

He sighs and looks at me, his honeyed eyes swirling under the lamp beside him. “I’m glad you’re still here, Kenma,” he murmurs, but it’s just formalities. I know he really doesn’t care, he would have taken his shoes off if he cared. He wants something from me. “How are you doing? You didn’t go to school today.”

I sigh. I’m not in the mood for his bullshit. “Why are you really here, Koutarou? Let’s skip the formalities. I’m tired and want to go back to sleep.” 

He grimaces. “Tetsurou is a mess.” 

I scoff. “So am I. What’s new?” 

Bokuto shakes his head and rubs his fingertips across our leather couch, avoiding my eyes as he says, “Kuroo misses you. You really did him wrong, Kenma.”

“Really? I did  _ him _ wrong? What about him dragging me along for three years just to act as if we were never together and he hated me.” 

_ He needs to take his fucking hands off my couch right the fuck now _ . 

Bokuto sighs. “You know that what he said wasn’t true.”

I can’t believe he came all this way just to talk about Kuro. I’m pissed, I’m not even going to lie. I suppose I shouldn’t snap at him this early in the conversation, but I could care less about his emotions. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking hurt! Instead of supporting me, he  _ dragged _ me! He turned everyone against me! He said I came onto him, for fuck’s sake! Do you know how  _ wrong _ that is? How horrible and disgusting it was of him to even  _ say _ that?” 

He grits his teeth and raises his voice when he says, “You outed him, Kenma! Of course he was going to react badly!” 

At this point, my voice is so loud I might as well be yelling. “We were together for years, Bokuto! You even supported me! I was fucking tired of being in the closet, it was ruining my mental health. He said that if I told my mom that he was going to break up with me! It wasn’t his fucking decision! That’s why I outed him, because I was sick of him controlling me!” 

I’m spitting, I’m not thinking as I’m speaking. But that’s the cleanest truth of the situation, I’ve finally put into words what I did and why I did it. I’m not going to take any of it back. I don’t regret outing Tetsurou in the slightest. And I won’t regret kicking Bokuto out of my house when the time comes that I get tired of him. I can be independent too, that’s what they don’t know. 

Bokuto stands up, but I’m not scared of him. I’m not scared of anyone but myself. He yells, “You can’t just out someone like that!” and I don’t even flinch. 

“And you can’t just closet someone like that either! It was either I suffered for however fucking long under his grasp or I outed both of us. And I wasn’t about to kill myself without letting anyone know why I did it.” 

He’s angry too, his fists are clenched.  _ Punch me, I dare you _ : I think. He can get as violent as he wants. I’m not retracting anything. I’m strong too. I won’t submit to anyone or anything but my own brain. 

His voice quiets as he says, “Why did you swallow all those pills, Kenma? Did you  _ want _ Tetsurou to suffer? Did you fucking  _ crave _ all of that attention or something? Because you got it! Tetsurou hasn’t slept in days he’s so fucking worried about you, and everyone’s been talking. My team, your team, Karasuno’s. Did you get what you wanted, Kenma? Did your sick fucking mind get what it wanted?” 

And now I know why he went quiet. He could’ve said it just as loud, there was no reason for him to back off when he obviously thinking yelling will load his empty threats. He’s just shooting blanks at this point. He’s making a lot of noise, but he isn’t making much sense. But I know why he went quiet, even if he wouldn’t admit it. It wasn’t for my sake, God knows he could care less about me. 

He did it because he didn’t want my mother to hear. 

I drop my quilt on the floor and stand up. “Get out of my house.”

He stands solidly in place, glaring at me. But he doesn’t scare me, he doesn’t intimidate me in the slightest. “Why? Do you not want to face the truth, Kenma?” 

I grit my teeth, I’m so angry. I would never tell anyone, but I want to start crying so badly. I just—what the fuck? What is going on in his head?  _ Why would he say that?  _

“You really think I did it for attention?” I ask, my voice is cracking.  _ Shit _ . I close my eyes to keep the tears back, but it barely works. When I open them again, I can’t help but sigh as a few slide down my cheeks. This doesn’t mean he wins, though. It just means he sees that I’m human, not a masochistic asshole who hurts myself for the attention. Or would that be  _ sadistic _ , since he thinks I wanted to hurt Kuro as badly as he says I did. 

Bokuto watches me, eyes widening as he sees me begin to cry. I don’t look at him, I look at the floor as I weep, letting the tears fall from my cheeks and onto my hoodie. Which is actually Kuro’s hoodie, and I’m surprised he didn’t notice. But why would he? He obviously never noticed my depression and he doesn’t seem to care that he completely mislabeled it with his bullshit. Fuck him, honestly. I want him to go away. I want to go to my room. I want to stop thinking for awhile, I want to go to sleep. 

“I didn’t do it for attention. And I didn’t fucking do it because of Tetsurou. I did it because I didn’t think life was worth living, and I’ve thought that for years. But I stayed, I stayed because somebody loved me. But then I realized that Kuroo had been pulling me on a leash, like his little toy. He didn’t actually care about me. So no, I could give less of a shit who was there. Who saw, who heard, who is hurting. I swallowed those pills because I didn’t think life was worth living if nobody loved me. And you bet your ass I feel the same way right now. I’m not here because of you. The only reason I’m still here is because of my mom. And if she knew what you had accused me of, she would want your ass out of this house. So get out. I don’t want you in my living room if you’re just going to ridicule me for my choices when I‘m trying to heal.” 

He blinks, watching me with his eyes wide and mouth agape. I guess I could have been nicer, but I honestly don’t think it’s worth being nice to those who aren’t nice to me. He can go fuck himself. I wish Tadashi was here instead. 

“Kenma,” Bokuto says, eyes still blinking, as if he’s lost for words. He doesn’t know what to say.  _ Good _ . He needs to leave. I don’t want him in my house anymore. “I—Will you please talk to Kuroo?”

I look at him, I’m still crying. I squint my eyes and frown, pissed off that he completely ignored what I said. That he didn’t apologize. But I don’t know why I expected him to be the bigger person and apologize for his actions. I need to remember that he isn’t on my side. He’s on Kuro’s. 

“What the fuck? No,” I say. “I said to get out of my house, Koutarou!” 

“He… I know why he doesn’t want to come out, Kenma.”

“I don’t care! If you don’t leave right now I’m going to make my mom kick you out. And I know you don’t want to be that disrespectful of her and make her do that.”

Bokuto completely ignores me and says, “It’s his dad.”

I scream, “I don’t care! I don’t care what his reasoning is! He should have communicated with me and that’s his own damn fault. Get out of my fucking house!”

Bokuto grabs my arm as I’m about to yell for my mom and he looks me dead in the eyes and says, “His dad abuses him, Kenma. Kuroo told me yesterday. He came out to his dad when you guys started dating and his dad told him that if he doesn’t break up with you and stop being a fag that he was going to kick Kuroo out of his house. That’s why he didn’t want you to tell anyone. He didn’t want his dad to know.” 

I rip his hand off my arm. “Don’t touch me ever again. Get out.” 

He looks at me sadly, eyes sharp. “I expected so much better of you, Kenma. This isn’t all about you, you know.” 

I ignore him. I call for my mom, but he closes the front door behind him as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. 

She finds me on the floor, sobbing incoherently. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i hope you enjoyed the chapter, things should be picking up soon. please remember to leave kudos if you haven’t, bookmark so you’re updated when i update, and leave a comment telling me what you think! is bokuto justified in what he’s saying? is kenma overreacting? who’s right? are either of them wrong in their thinking? i would love to know your opinions and predictions! thank you for reading!
> 
> kelsey <3


	13. cuddle

I wake from another haze around 7 at night. My mother is hovering above me, shaking my shoulder with a soft expression stained to her face. I’m lying in my clean sheets (ones that she washed after she made me take a shower. I guess that means I don’t feel as bad as I did. I feel clean, at the least. My hair isn’t oily. My breath doesn’t stink) and I have my pajamas on, a different hoodie of Kuro’s hanging heavy on my shoulders. 

“Kenma,” she whispers, then softly cradles my face with her palm. “Are you up to talking to anyone? I know you had a really bad encounter with that boy earlier…” 

I groan and push myself up, propped on my elbows. She brushes her hand through my hair, inviting herself to sit beside me on my bed. “Is someone else here, Mama?” I ask, to which she nods and slips her hand out of my hair. 

“I think you’ll want to see him,” she says, smiling delicately. Her voice is fragile. She doesn’t want me hurt just as much as I don’t want to be hurt. “He…,” she stops and sighs. “Come downstairs, Sweetheart.” 

I pull my covers off with a loud sigh, followed by a groan as I stand up. She leads me to the staircase and she starts to walk downstairs. But I stop dead in my tracks as soon as I see who is standing in our foyer with red, puffy eyes and a bouquet of flowers shaking in his hand. 

_ No— _

“Kuroo…,” I gasp, the sound of his name tumbling out of my mouth before I can catch it. I watch with wide eyes as he looks up at me, and  _ God _ , he looks so pitiful. His eyes immediately start sparkling, and then he’s crying as he smiles at me. 

“I’m so sorry, Kenma,” he says, the cry caught in his throat and tears resting on his cheekbones. He shakes his head and holds the flowers tighter in his hands. “I miss you so much.”

_ Fuck _ . 

I look around for my mom, but she’s no longer in the foyer. She’s elsewhere, leaving us alone to talk. To…  _ reconcile _ . My heart jumps at the sight of him, but my head screams. I don’t know which to listen to—both parts of myself have betrayed me before. I don’t know what I can trust anymore. 

“Kuroo,” I say again, because I don’t know what else to say. I didn’t expect this to happen—I didn’t expect him to actually come to my house. Without warning, I stumble down the staircase and he holds out the flowers to me as I reach the ground floor. 

“I got these for you,” he says, voice coated with a dry sob. “I didn’t know how else to apologize. I fucked up, Kenma. I fucked up so bad.”

I can’t help myself from weeping as well, even if it is in anger. My mind is so angry at me, drowning my head in shrill shrieks as my heart takes the flowers and sets them down on the staircase, just to throw myself into Kuro’s chest. I bury my head in neck as he wraps his arms around me so tightly. He lost me, and it’s evident in the way he holds me that he doesn’t intend to lose me again. 

“I love you, Kenma,” he says. “For real. I really,  _ really _ do love you. I want to be with you, I want to be your boyfriend so bad. And I fucked up. I said things I shouldn’t have, I turned people against you and I made you hurt yourself.”

He’s crying roughly as he hides his face in my hair, lightly kissing my head as he does so. He rocks me in his arms and I say nothing, letting his presence absorb me. There is so much I should say, my brain is fuming. But I don't say any of it. Not now—and I probably won’t ever. I know myself too well—I’m too weak. 

“I missed you,” I finally whisper, raspily and quietly albeit. “Let’s go upstairs and talk there where it's more… private.” 

He nods and untwines from my grasp, though he stays close behind with no intention of losing me. It’s endearing, really. I can’t believe he’s here. And my mind is so angry with me, how I abandoned my truths and my thoughts for him. But deep down, I knew the next time I saw him I would break and run to him. He means too much to me. It was inevitable. 

When we make it into my room, I sigh and sit on my bed, offering up for him to sit beside me. He does, looking hopefully at the pictures of us I still have clinging to my cork board. 

“Kenma, will you tell me something honestly?” He asks, still looking at the pictures. He isn’t smiling anymore, but he’s stopped crying. He looks pitiful still, but there is hope in his eyes and I like that a lot. It gives me hope.  _ Maybe we can rebuild us _ . 

“What?” I ask. 

He turns to me and whispers, “Was I the reason you tried to kill yourself?” 

I take a deep breath and hold it, our eyes devouring one another. He looks so sad, so ruined. But I know I look worse. “No. I’ve been sick for a long time and you know that,” I say, then look away. I swing my legs hanging off the bed, moving my toes around as I do so to distract myself from his looming presence. I sigh. “Our fight might have been what flipped the switch, but it wasn’t what caused it. I’m stronger than that, I like to think.”

He nods, then extends his hand out to me. Without a second thought, I take it in mine and breathe a sigh of relief when he squeezes it. “You know, Kenma, if you died I would have gone right after you.”

I shake my head. “You wouldn’t have. You shouldn’t think that. That’s… God, Kuroo, that’s so toxic to think.” 

He sighs shakily, and it’s followed by a sob, which causes me to perk upright. He takes his hand out of mine and I snap my head towards him to see his desperate crying. His arms tremble as he’s staring at his hands, he doesn’t know what to do with them. He’s murmuring to himself incoherently. 

“Kuro,” I say once, maybe a little harsher than I intended to. “You know you shouldn’t be thinking that way.”

That didn’t help. He throws his head back and grits his teeth, but he folds into himself soon after and wails, “You’re all I have!” 

I’m shocked as he cries harder and grabs his thighs to stop shaking, but it doesn’t work. He’s following the onset of a panic attack—I know it just as well. His head is trembling fervently, he’s cowering into his body as he breaks down right in front of me. And I have no idea what to do. I see myself in him for a moment—and the world slows down. I notice it all and take it in—the sheer incapability to process myself, the motions he’s going through. The shaking, the rocking, grabbing his pants and shaking his head like he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He’s muttering to himself, but it’s incoherent as he wails, teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut. 

“Kuroo!” I spit out, again but louder. I crawl across my bed to drape myself over his shoulders, digging my face into his bed head and kissing until he calms down. “I’m right here, Kuro. I’m right here.”

He’s crying still, but less. It feels as if I’m trying to assuage the beast, I’m chained to him. Our pinky fingers are connected with a red string, I know our bond is still strong and unwavering. We just need to communicate. 

“Kuro, tell me what’s going on. Tell me now,” I say, holding him to my chest and setting my chin on his shoulder. I place a few kisses on his neck and shoulder as some sort of payment for the harshness in my voice, then I nuzzle my nose into the skin beneath his ear and he sighs, slowly relieving himself. 

“Kenma,” he whispers, whimpering. He brings his hand up to brush my cheek with his thumb, much like my mother does. I smile at him when he looks at me, our faces so close and lips only a few inches apart. But I don’t try to kiss him, it’s not time for that yet. We need to talk to one another, and he knows it just as well as I do. 

I say, “Bokuto came by today. Did he tell you that?”

Kuro nods. “He said you were so upset. You kicked him out.”

I nod, then sigh. I look away from Kuro as I tell him, “He wasn’t listening to me. He accused me of attempting suicide for the attention.”

Tetsu takes my chin in his hand and makes me look at him. Our faces are only inches apart, his eyes are wide. He asks, “Are you serious?”

I nod, eyes prickling at the mere thought of what happened. I won’t lie about it—it really upset me. It made me reevaluate my entire worth as a person—I had a breakdown about it. Hell, my mom had to sit in the bathroom when I took a shower to make sure I didn’t try to razor my wrists or thighs. 

“That’s why I kicked him out, Kuro. I heard everything he told me, but I wanted to hear it from you and talk to you about it. I didn’t want him in my house when he treated me like he did. He was so mean, he didn’t listen to anything I said and all he did was yell at me.” 

Tetsurou shakes his head and pulls my arms closer. “I… I told him not to come here. I told him I would talk to you at school today, but then you weren’t there and I started to worry. He told me he would take care of it…” 

I nod. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he says, pursing his lips. He knocks his head against mine and I kiss his cheek, still holding him from behind. He’s holding both of my hands, and my hair is falling onto him. With my hand still in his, he picks a thick strand of my hair and runs it through his fingers, mine following suite. 

I sigh and place my forehead against the back of his head. I ask, “Kuro, is it true? What Bokuto told me about your dad?” 

Kuro tenses up, I can feel it. So I rub my thumbs on his palms and kiss his head, lying my own on his shoulder again and letting my lips wander over his skin, kissing it lightly. He nods and whispers, “Yeah, it is.” 

I ask, “Will you tell me? From your perspective?” 

He sighs. “I came out to him after our first date. I told him that I was on a date, that it was with a boy. That I loved being around my new boyfriend,” he begins, softly smiling after recalling our first date. He turns his head to the side and kisses me on the nose, I giggle and he splits a wide grin before continuing. “He was really angry. He called me names and threw his beer bottle at me, thank god he hadn’t broken it first. He told me that I either break up with you and turn straight, or I stay a fag and he kicks me out of the house. So… I pretended to be straight. I told him I had broken up with my boyfriend, but that was a lie. I never told him it was you, so that’s why I made you pretend to be straight too. I was afraid that if he found out about you, that he would also find out about me and he would put me on the streets.

“So… In trying to protect myself, I hurt you, and I didn’t even know it. Bokuto would chastise me all the time and tell me to come out, for you, but I ignored him. You told me how much you wanted to come out, and that was obvious. But it worried me, and that’s why I didn’t listen. I was afraid that he would hurt you if he found you at our house, knowing you liked boys. I was afraid that he would hurt me more than he did on a usual basis.” He sighs, and I listen. “Not all of those bruises you would find on me were from volleyball. Actually, most of them weren’t. The ones on my stomach, the gash on my back, that wasn’t volleyball.”

He was crying over his talking, but I stayed quiet. I took my hands away from his to rub the tears off his cheeks and to hold his face as I kissed his cheeks. I continue to listen, I let him tell me everything. 

“I’m sorry I never told you,” he says, finally relaxing into me as he sighs. “I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t want you to worry about me. But in hiding the abuse, the hatred my dad had—I hurt you. And I’m so sorry, Kenma. Because I want to be with you. And I want the entire world to know how much I love you, I want to kiss you on our cute cafe dates after practice and I want to hold your hand in the hallway. I want to be out—but I can’t. I shouldn’t have held you back because of it.” 

I nod, but I don’t speak of the topic. Because I know we will, I will eventually talk to him about it. But I need to establish something stronger first. I ask, “Will you spend the night, Kuro?”

He looks at me with bright, hopeful eyes as he replies, “You still want to be with me?”

“I never wanted to lose you,” I say, then engulf him in a hug. He turns around and hugs me as well, our chests pressed together and heads beside one another. I say into his hoodie, “I’m so sorry about your dad. I just wish you had told me sooner, then we could have avoided a lot of fighting.” 

He nods. “I’m sorry, Kenma.”

I lie down on my bed and have him lie beside me. “We all make mistakes, Kuro,” I say, holding my hand out to draw on his chest with my fingertips. He closes his eyes and sighs softly under my touch, scooting himself closer to me to feel my body heat. 

“You’re so amazing,” he says, eyes still shut. He draws my head to his chest so I move my hand to rub his stomach. He hums happily and I smile, remembering how wonderful it feels to do something  _ right _ . He continues, “You’re such a good person. I hate that you have to suffer worse than the rest of us.”

I shake my head and yawn. “You’re suffering too, Kuro.”

He scoffs. “Only when I’m home. Your mind doesn’t ever leave you,” he tells me, knocking his fingertips on my head as he says so. “So… does this mean we’re still boyfriends?” 

“Of course we are,” I say, grinning into his hoodie. He smiles and laughs when I slip my hands beneath his shirt and poke his stomach. After a minute of goofing around with him (which feels so nice, as if I can forget all of my pain for a few moments and laugh) I pull my bed’s blanket over us and snuggle into his chest, tired. I don’t want this moment to leave us, ever. “Time to sleep.”

He asks, “Have you taken your pills, Kitten?” And my heart leaps with the pet name. It feels like we’re finally back to normal, we’re us again. That excites me more than anything else. 

“I’m getting new pills, so my therapist said to stop taking my current ones,” I say, nodding. “So I don’t need to take them.” 

He nods and pats my head, to which I snort. He snorts back. 

I ask, “Are you cold? You’re shivering. I can get another blanket—,”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine, Kenma. You always get really hot during the night anyways, it’s like I’m holding a human heating pad.”

I swat his shoulder and he giggles, swatting me back. We go on like that, messing with one another, until I roll over him and click my body into his, letting him spoon me. He groans, which I laugh at because I know how much he hates holding me during the night. It’s an awkward position with our different heights and he can’t curl up into a ball like he wants to, and he always wakes up drenched in my sweat. He’s a huge baby about it, whenever we sleep together (which is rarely, to be honest) he makes me coddle him. Ever since we were kids during our sleepovers he would ask,  _ “Kenma, will you hug me to sleep?” _

Current day Kuroo groans again. “Move.”

I shake my head. “Just for tonight, please,” I coax, trying my hardest to cajole him. He whines and I say, “Please. I need it. All the physical affection I’ve had these past few weeks has been from my mom.” (Which is a lie, but I don’t plan on telling him about Tadashi or how I wanted nothing more than to kiss the boy’s neck and hear him whine from it the entire time he spent at my house.) 

Kuro sighs, defeated. I’m surprised he doesn’t even try to put up a fight. He just sighs, and says, “Alright, just for tonight. Goodnight, Baby.”

I grin, victorious. “I love you, Kuro.”

“I love you, Kitten.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! I hope you enjoyed this very fluffy update... it was very difficult to write. If you didn’t know, I excel in angst and vomit at fluff. But it had to be done, and i hope you like it. Next chapter will be a lot heavier, and i will have a chapter summary to explain some of it because i realize that when i was proofreading it that a lot of you might not understand what is going on. Look for that update on this coming Thursday! Since this was a longer chapter and took a lot more time, I’m giving myself a longer break than usual before the next update. As always, remember to leave kudos if you haven’t, bookmark so you can be caught up when i update, and leave a comment telling me what you think! Do you think this will last between kenma and kuroo or do you think it is superficial? What do you think about kuroo’s reasoning, and does it change your opinion on kenma’s reasoning? Are either of them right in their thinking? Stay tuned and thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Kelsey <3


	14. stare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very heavy. There’s barely any dialogue and it is written from a 1st person into a 2nd person switch, based on a characteristic of the protagonist’s mental illness. If you would like, research ‘depersonalization’ or ‘disassociation’ to truly connect with the feelings i’ve portrayed in the protagonist. Depersonalization is a symptom of depression and PTSD, it is something that i only suffered from once as a result of a depressive episode. but i’ve poured my experience into this. <3

I look into the mirror and I see somebody different looking back at me. 

It’s bright in here, the bathroom lights are like flash bombs. I don’t know what time it is, yet the question keeps swirling in my head—as if I’m hiding the answer. I don’t know how I got here, but I smell like soap and my hands are sitting in the sink. It’s quiet. It’s bright. 

I’m standing in front of a mirror. My feet hurt, they ache as if I’ve been standing here for hours. I mean, who knows? I don’t. Maybe I have been standing here for hours. I’m awake, I know that. I don’t know anything else, everything feels so surreal. 

I’m standing in front of a mirror, my hands grip the edge of the sink. _Woah, too hard._ But I don’t notice until I look down and see the color purple creeping up my fingertips. I don’t feel my hands, they’re numb. Every part of me feels stuffy like TV static. 

I look back up. I’m looking straight into the mirror, and yet it isn’t me on the other side. 

It’s a boy. No, a teenager. Still young, still a boy. Old enough to have bags under his eyes. He looks tired, but more than that, he looks sad. So sad. As if he’s captured the essence of life in his heart and the oceans in his eyes. The boy holds a deep, reigning sadness. It upsets me. 

He’s not pretty, but he probably could be if he wanted to. If he did something with his hair, maybe if he swept away the bags under his eyes with a solid sleeping schedule. Maybe if he had a skincare routine—which, I doubt. No man (well, boy) of that much sadness has time for skincare. Sadness is a chore, it’s more dreadful than that of any other routine. It sucks away at everything until you even forget to brush your teeth. Forget to change clothes for a few days, forget that showering exists. 

I smell like soap. _Did I shower recently?_ Or is it him, maybe it’s him. Him, who fought the woman who forced him into the shower in the first place. _Oh, I remember now._ My mother, she made me shower today. She washed my hair while I wept. 

The boy blinks at me, he has tears streaming down his puffy cheeks. 

He tells me something, but I can’t hear him. I watch him scream, but I can’t hear it. He collapses in on himself and slams the sink with his hands, water splashing back up on him. And yet I’m dry, watching the boy struggle through the glass. He is not me, though. I don’t feel wet as he drowns himself beneath the faucet. 

I can feel his screaming vibrating in my bones, ricocheting in my empty rib cage. It gnaws at the flesh and drinks the blood, I feel my stomach rise with an illness I can’t describe. My cheeks are hot, water droplets fall from my face as I puke into the sink. 

I look up, and the boy looking back at me smiles. It’s half-hearted, it’s forced. He’s trapped before me, watching as I roam free. His hair is blonde, most of it. He’s screaming, I can’t hear. Nobody hears, the bathroom door is shut. I guess the walls are soundproof. 

He doesn’t want to be there, just as much as I don’t want to be here. I feel him reach out and caress my cheek, whispering. It’s mute, the room is filled with noise from the air conditioner and that only. He looks so cadaverous, _God_ , I wish I were him. 

It isn’t sudden, but it isn’t slow. I don’t recognize the transition until I watch down upon myself from a Bird's Eye view, clamoring to the mirror with sickly skin—a murmuring mess. I am not here, I cannot feel this hatred in my bones any longer. 

I watch as the boy on the bathroom floor bashes his head against the porcelain sink, he doesn’t scream, but he whimpers and I wince—though it doesn’t hurt me. He slides to the ground and lies on it, the boy in the mirror watching down upon him with a heart of gold. He’s so tired, both of them are so tired, I’m tired. I don’t understand what is happening, I feel as if I’m floating away. And I’m okay with that. 

There is so much that I wish for myself, so much that I’ll never be able to reach. I fall for the same fucking mistakes over and over again, watching as I slam my fist into the ground tiles. _Easy, Kenma_ , you wake the boy in your bed and it’s game over. This mental ecstasy shatters like a snow globe and your sorry, grungy ass is left explaining that you saw a fucking angel in your bathtub again. 

I know you’re so angry with yourself. You want to shriek and scream but the words aren’t coming out, because you don’t know what you’re angry about. You’re lovesick, you’re a fool. A coward, an idiot. You let him back into your bed, Kenma, you violated yourself and you violated your own right. This is your fault, not his. He has an excuse, that's his own bullshit to deal with. 

You’re sixteen. ( _Almost seventeen_ , you try to yell out. But you can’t, you see, I’m your better judgement. You don’t understand what’s going on, you don’t understand why you see him in your bathtub again. Think again, Kenma, it’s not an angel. It’s you. It’s me, we’re the same. It’s just another fit of depersonalization, compartmentalizing your judgement into its own form. That was _your_ choice, Kenma. You see me as an angel, but I’m your walking nightmare and you know it just as well as I do. It doesn’t matter if it’s 3:14 in the morning [that’s the time, by the way] or if it’s in broad daylight and you’re breaking down in the driveway while your dad moves out.) 

You’re a child, Kenma. You’re lost, and you think latching onto this figure—this embodiment of growth or whatever the fuck you want to call him, you think this is going to save you. But you can’t save each other, that’s not how it works. Your mom didn’t save your dad, and she sure as hell didn’t save you. What makes you think that you can save him, Kenma? What in your right fucking mind thinks that you’re capable of mitigating the abuser that lives in his house and beats him with bare fucking hands?

You’re a child. You’re a sex machine—whether you want to accept it or not. You used him to wear off that stimulation like he was candy. Horniness isn’t a fucking side effect to your Venlafaxine, _stupid boy_ , you made that up yourself. That energy you had—you wanted it gone. You weren’t used to being happy and you freaked yourself into an overdose thinking that you were sex deprived. Of course you were, Kenma, you should be. You’re a child, he’s a child, and you were wrong to do it. You were wrong to invite your best friend into your bed and ruin the only healthy relationship you had (but don’t let me get into that, now isn’t the time to talk about Kuroo and you holding hands at age six and cuddling in his bed when your mom sent you over to his house at 3 in the morning for an ‘emergency sleepover’) and you were wrong to let him do it again. 

I broke you in half at that training camp, Kenma, and I sure as hell want to do it again. Was it that you saw me standing like a goddess of light in the shadow of the bathroom stall that Kuroo was pinning you to? Or did you see me after he left that hickey on your neck and refused to pay consequences for it, leaving you to cry to a girl from Karasuno of whom you’ve never met to ask if she had makeup to spare. He doesn’t care about you. He never did, Kenma. Why won’t you see it?

You lie on the floor sobbing out for help and I can see you from far away, but you know full well that I am right there inside of you. You’re sick in the mind—you need a fucking therapist and you need to either end yourself or end somebody else. The violence rushes in your gut, I know you feel it. The energy to pull away with these crimes—it’s right there in the pool of your stomach, waiting. You knew this was going to happen when you upped your dose. You knew you would go crazy, slowly but surely, dent by dent making marks in your body until one day you rip it all up and let everyone see what you’ve done to yourself, what they couldn’t have prevented. 

_Wake up, Kenma._ It’s early in the morning, you have to get ready for school. You have to kick the boy out of your bed and tell him to leave—no, I know you won’t. You’ll hold off on that, wait a few days until he fucks up again, and then leave yourself in bottomless despair because you were never taught how to be independent and your poor father never let you leave the fucking house. (He’s also another topic for another fit of disassociation. You act as if him leaving was just a small stepping stone, but you never acknowledge the hell he put you in before. He and Kuroo’s father were great friends, you should have known that. You watched your mothers cry together on emergency sleepover nights—did you ever wonder why? Or were you too caught up in wondering who the next person to manifest yourself into would be?)

The alarm is going off on your bed stand, Kenma. _Get up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello. i hope you enjoyed this chapter and it really opened your eyes, it was meant to be explosive in that way. i initially wasn’t going to post this chapter, but i felt it was raw enough to include, especially with the way i popcorn between action and thought. and the last chapter was very action heavy, so this is the opposite. next chapter will he posted this weekend at some point. as usual, don’t forget to leave kudos, bookmark so you’re updated when i update, and leave w comment telling me what you think and if you have any questions. 
> 
> kelsey <3


	15. find

The alarm is going off on my bed stand, I hear it muffled from behind this closed door. 

_ Fuck _ . How long have I been lying here? My bare back is pressed against the dirty bathroom floor— _ Fuck _ , how did I get here? I’m so cold, when did I even strip? I was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie and lying in a warm bed last I remember. Now I’m completely naked (aside from my boxers, thankfully) and lying on the cold, faux tile bathroom floor. 

I hear the alarm stop— _ thank you, Kuro _ . Soon after I hear footsteps: I know it’s him. But I feel too numb, too frozen to lift myself off the ground, so I wait in crying as he shuffles around, my name rolling off his tongue. 

“Kenma?” He asks aloud, over and over. I call out for him, but I don’t think he hears me. He repeats my name again, much more desperate this time. I hear my closet door squeak open (what the fuck is he doing? Does he really think I’m going to just lie around in my closet?) 

I call out for him again, my voice cracking beneath myself. I hear him stop and I sigh, hoping he heard me. He asks, “Kenma? Babe?” once more. I smack the floor, I feel like I’m in a trance. I can’t get up, I feel too weak. My throat hurts, everything hurts. Everything is numb. My eyes hurt so much—and I can't stop crying. 

When he doesn’t hear my hand hit the floor, I cry harder. I yell out for him, but it hurts. “Kenma!” He blurts, and  _ finally _ he finds me. I hear him shuffling across my room, then he opens the door,  _ oh thank God _ . His eyes go wide when he sees me lying on the floor and he scurries to my rescue, saying, “Fuck, Kenma, are you okay?”

_ No. You’ve never been ‘okay’.  _

“I— I don’t know, Kuro.” 

My throat hurts, I feel the need to puke again. But I don’t worry about it, I haven’t eaten in a long time. There’s nothing to come up, so I swallow the feeling into myself and cry as he lifts me into his arms, hushing and wiping my tears all the way. 

“Kenma, how long have you been here?” He asks, worried. I can’t answer him—I don’t know. I have no idea what happened— _ no _ , I do. I know what happened. 

I shouldn’t hide from myself any longer. I can’t lie to my own mind any longer; but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t lie to him. 

“Kuro—I, I don’t know. I don’t know what happened.”

He knows about the depression, but he doesn’t know about the disassociation. He has no idea about the derealization, he has no idea how fucked I really am. He doesn’t know about how I screwed myself up so badly that sometimes in the pit of night I meet myself in the dark and it ruins me. Well, I met myself in the artificial light tonight. (Last night? I lose track of time so often when I’m self-loathing and wishing I was dead.) This time around I didn’t see any ‘angel’ though, I didn’t see a halo of myself in the bathtub. The angel was inside of me. (It always is, it’s always me. It’s just… the encounters and the thoughts feel so unreal. Like I’m on an LSD trip four times the amount that I should be.) It hurts my head to even think about it, but I know full well that the middle-of-the-fucking-night-tripped-on-my-own-suicidal-ideation me is real, and I know he’s right.  _ God _ , my whole life feels like a nightmare. 

“That’s okay, Kenma,” Kuro replies, and I jump a little, startled. I forgot he was there for a moment. I get too caught up in myself sometimes, I guess. I hate that. I feel so selfish. “Are you feeling okay? Are you alright to go to school today? Should we talk to your mom?”

My head feels foggy, as if I was drunk. I don’t think I was—but then again I don’t recall how I ended up in this bathroom having a conversation with myself at three in the fucking morning. 

I sigh, Kuro kisses my cheek as some sort of solace and I can’t say it doesn’t help to ease my sick mind. He lightly cradles me in his arms and I let myself go, I let my body weight fall hard into him. He’s so strong though, lifting my dead weight doesn’t bother him. He carries me into my room and lays me down on my bed without a sweat. I look over at my clock, it’s 6:30 in the morning.  _ Shit _ , I had a long night. I listened to a long fucking soliloquy. 

And I’m still half naked.  _ Fuck this _ . I don’t have the energy to dress myself right now. 

I sigh. I hate asking for help—it’s like a hallmark of my personality. But at this point, I’ve given up. I run my hand down Kuro’s arm and whisper, “Will you help me… with my clothes…” 

He splits a grimace, I poke his lips. He looks ugly when he does that, and I would tell him if our relationship wasn’t so rocky right now. If we were truly back to normal—which, we aren't. And I don’t know if we’ll ever be. 

I crinkle my nose up at him when he brushes a hand through my hair. He asks, “You had a night, huh?” 

I make myself smile at him, though he has no clue. He probably thinks I did some sex thing, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. But I assume it’s probably better for him to think that than for him to know what truly went on. I sigh. “Sure.” 

And like the dear boyfriend he is, he slides off my bed with a groan and makes himself company rummaging through my dresser. He brings me a hoodie and a pair of pajama pants and he helps me put them on before lying back down beside me and kissing my nose. 

“Thanks, Kuro.” 

“Anytime, Kitten,” he replies, holding my head to his chest and sighing happily. “You’re so easy to cuddle with.” 

I snuggle closer into him until I feel his body heat hot against me. I sigh, everything feels so heavy. I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore. But I don’t need to worry about that right now, not while Kuro’s body feels so warm… 

“Kenma?” He asks, delicately. And as if on cue, my door peeks open and my mother reveals herself on the other side, a warm smile on her face. She looks relaxed, which I’m glad to see. I, on the other hand, probably will not relax until I pop off again. And if he stays by my side like he promised, it looks as if I’m going to be popping off on Tetsurou. Again. 

I wish I wasn’t alive. 

“Good morning,” my mother whispers, inviting herself into the room, which I don’t mind. Kuro, I see, looks a little tense. As if we were having a moment (we weren’t) and she ruined it (she didn’t). 

“Hi, Mama,” I mutter, crawling out of Kuro’s grasp and walking over to her, falling into her embrace with a relaxed, contented sigh. She wraps her arms around me and kisses the top of my head, to which I immediately heal. 

“Are you going to go to school with Kuroo today?” She asks, looking ahead at Kuro no doubt. She’s a kind person, but she has recently built her boundaries with him and with me and with  _ us _ as well. She spoke to me about Kuro and  _ boundaries _ the other day after Bokuto left. I'm sure she was mortified upon realizing why we locked my door so often, why we never left the door open. 

School. Right.  _ Fuck _ . 

“Uh, yeah, I’ll go to school,” I manage to slip out, cooly sliding it under a grin. (Totally fake, but last night’s monologue is ringing loud in my head, and I know I should listen for once. If I really do want to get better, you know.) 

I look at Tetsurou, he’s splitting the fattest grin.  _ Great _ . I’m really going to get suckered into going to my least favorite place—for a  _ boy _ . A boy who I’m not even sure I’ve forgiven yet. A boy I don’t fully trust right now. 

“Yeah,” I sigh, picking myself up and standing tall. I take a deep breath, I know I can do this. But I’m scared. Who knows if the school kicked my suicide attempt under the rug—who knows if everybody has been watching my locker these past few days? I don’t know. All I know is that the psychiatrist at the hospital emailed all of my teachers to tell them exactly why I was gone, and pretty much every high school volleyball club in the nation knows about what I did. 

I don’t even want to say it. I’m embarrassed. Especially keeping in consideration what Bokuto thought—who knows how many of my peers also misunderstood the situation? Who knows how many of them were prompted to do the same— _ God _ , fuck this. I hope nobody knows. 

“Do you want me to drive you?” Mom asks quietly, slowly retreating to the door. She looks uneasy, I don’t blame her. My first day back… she must be worried like hell. I know I am. 

As I’m about to nod, Kuro shakes his head. “I can drive him, Ms. Kozume. You should be able to go back to sleep, yeah?” 

I sigh. That’s not what I want, but I guess I shouldn’t argue… especially not with the current state of my and Kuro’s relationship. I nod. “Good idea. You haven’t slept in awhile, Mama.” It physically hurts me to lie. My stomach feels queasy. 

She nods. “Yeah… I guess so. Just—come get me before you leave, okay?” Her voice is coated in anxiety, I feel like shit. I know she wants to spend as much time sheltering me as she can. And hell, I want that too. She’s the only one I feel completely and utterly safe with. Being with Kuro is like riding a never ending rollercoaster. You get used to it—but it doesn’t make the loops and corkscrews any smaller. 

“I will, Mama,” I say delicately, hoping for nothing more than for her to tell Kuro off and take me to school, just us in the car, talking and listening to music. Without the stinging presence of my boyfriend, the one she now knows that I’m dating. 

“Okay,” she says, forcing herself to smile. She nods and turns around, closing the door behind her. It wrenches my gut. 

I keep thinking, Kuro wraps his arms around me and kisses my hair. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” 

_ No, I’m not _ . “I’m okay, I’m just trying to… adjust.”

He nods. “I’m here, okay? Anytime you need me today—I’ll be there. We can meet in the bathroom if we need to, okay, Kitten?”

I sigh and lie into his chest. It makes me uneasy. School bathrooms, that is. The only time I ever used to go into them was to make out with Kuro. So he could hide us away from the rest of the world, because he wasn’t content enough talking to his best friend in the public eye. I hate school restrooms. 

“Okay, Kuro,” I murmur as he holds me up, his strong arms swaddling me in his big hoodie. I nuzzle in closer and he snickers, lifting me into the air for a moment and spinning on his heels to place me on my bed. “We should get ready,” I say, smiling softly as he grins at me. 

He nods. “I’m sure you still have a drawer of my clothes?”

“Duh, Stupid,” I say, rolling my eyes as he trots over to my dresser and finds himself a pair of his jeans, boxers, and a hoodie. 

It’s comical, it’s almost like we’re a married couple at this point. He even has a toothbrush here—but I have nothing at his house. I used to wonder why, but now I know. After his parents got ‘divorced’ (I’m pretty sure his mom just fell off the map, but he doesn't like to talk about it) our sleepovers in his twin bed suddenly halted and he started spending time at my house way more often. 

“I’ll change in the bathroom, okay? You can change out here,” he says, then smiles. “Just for your mom’s sake.”

At least he cares a little bit about her, that makes me feel more relieved. I’m not sure he realizes how much closer I’ve become to my mother within this time. 

I walk over to my dresser, not looking as he retreats into my bathroom. “Don’t take twenty minutes, I have to brush my hair.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! sorry this chapter is a bit late, i drafted it like three times when i usually only draft twice and i’m still not satisfied with it. but it’s only one chapter, so i’ve gone ahead and posted it instead of fretting over it for another three hours. i hope you enjoyed, i’ll be posting chapter 16 on wednesday. be sure to bookmark so you’re updated when i update, and leave me a comment if you would like! i love to hear from my readers, especially as the plot is thickening. :) 
> 
> kelsey <3 
> 
> (p.s., this chapter was written and edited entirely from my phone so i apologize if it feels off from my other chapters which i usually edit on my laptop.)


	16. drive

Kuro watches with a smile as my mother kisses my forehead on the porch, pulling me into her arms and holding me there until I tell her it’s time to go. She looks devastated, absolutely terrified—and to be honest, I am too. I kiss her cheek and tell her, “It’ll be okay, Mama. Kuro will make sure nothing happens to me, you know he will.”

She nods, but still looks unconvinced. I tell her, “I’ll update you after every class, okay? I know you’re worried, I am too.” 

She shakes her head. “I trust you, Kenma. I just… I’m scared.”

I nod. “Me too. But it’ll be okay. We can do it.”

She sighs, hugging me one last time. “Okay, okay, you’re right. Please don’t overload yourself, okay? The teachers know you’ve been gone… and call me if anything happens, alright? And go to your school counselor if you feel anxious or anything, I called last weekend to talk to her.”

I force myself to grin, listening as she rambles on. Softly, I cut her off. “I love you, Mama. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

The wind feels cool against my skin, it lifts my hair as well as hers. She looks so frail as the air picks up strands of her graying hair and the sun shines in her darkened eyes. “I love you too, Kenma,” she says softly, smiling sadly as I take Kuro’s hand and wave her goodbye. 

Kuro opens the door to the passenger side of his car for me, it feels as if I’m being escorted. Which, I kind of am. Kuro knows damn well that my mom will beat his ass if he doesn’t take care of me today. Once I get in the car, he leans in and kisses my forehead before snickering and closing the door, retreating to the driver’s side. 

I wave to my mother, who stands on the porch watching us with a smile still resting upon her face. It warms my soul, swaddling me from the cold air that surrounds us. I forgot how cold it could be in the mornings. 

Kuro gets in the car and closes his door, plugging in the keys and buckling his seatbelt. He hands me his phone and says, “Play us some music,” as he waves goodbye to my mother for reassurance. He puts the car in reverse and pulls out of the driveway.

I scroll through his music, a knot in my chest growing as we start driving down the road. I play a random song, confused by all the pop songs on his playlist. All I listen to is video game music sometimes while I’m playing. Music isn’t a huge part of my life as I know it is his. 

It’s evident that he knows the song well, he immediately starts humming, bobbing his head along. I sigh, finally relaxing, and grin at him. “You look cute, Kuro.”

“You’re cuter than I am,” he says with a scoff. He tries to play it off, but it’s obvious in his blushing cheeks that my silly comment affected him. 

I shake my head. “Doubtful. You’re hot.”

He shakes his head in return and stops at a traffic light, looking around as he turns his blinker on. “You’re hotter than me. Sexy, even.”

I roll my eyes. “You have a six-pack and volleyball player thighs. Tell me that’s not sexier than being the size of like… a full noodle and a half.”

He snorts loudly and I mock him, snorting in reply. He turns right and laughs as I snort again, mocking him. He says, “You’re not noodly.” He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re muscular, but very slender. It’s sexy on you. I would freak out a little bit if you were big and burly at your height…”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not trying to be burly. But you’re overemphasizing my muscles. I barely have any.”

He snorts. I snort back, once again. We used to go through this all the time. “You sound like a baby piglet,” he coos.

“You sound like a hog.”

He gasps, fake-offended. He stops at a stop sign and looks around, pushing my chest back with the palm of his hand when I sit too far up in my seat and he can’t see out the window. 

He sighs, bringing his hand back to help him steer. “Have you seen your thighs, Kenma?” He asks, leaning into the gas pedal. 

I grimace. “I don’t know, maybe you could show them to me.” 

Kuro reaches his arm across the console to smack me in the chest, to which I laugh harder than I have in awhile. “It is eight in the morning, Kenma. It’s too early for sex talk.”

I sigh loudly to show my distaste and Kuro rolls his eyes. I purse my lips. “You’re being dramatic.” 

He shakes his head. “You’re damn hot, Kenma. But your mother would beat my ass if I did anything other than take you to school safely and take you home right after.”

I groan, sighing even louder than I did before as we approach the school. I check the car’s analog clock. “Mmm… we’ll have about twenty minutes to spare, Kuro…” 

He shakes his head. “No. We are not doing anything in those twenty minutes except going inside the building and unpacking our things to get ready for class.” 

I sigh, groaning loudly. “Backseat. Give me five minutes with you.”

He grimaces. “You sure are confident in your abilities, huh?”

I nod, smirking. “I am. Want to test my theory?”

Kuro shakes his head and smirks right back at me, his eyes narrowing as they meet mine. “Nope!”

He parks the car and jumps out, walking to my side and opening the door for me again, like a gentleman. He leans in to help me out of my seat, but instead I pull him by the collar of his shirt and plant a kiss on his lips, turning it into an open-mouth kiss quickly when I slide my tongue through his lips. He pulls away just as quickly though, a blush dusting his cheeks. He shakes his head. 

“You are a bad boy, Kenma.” 

“You going to punish me?”

He shakes his head and turns away from me, his face burning scarlet red. I love it, I bite my lip and giggle as he ignores me and pulls our backpacks out of the backseat, shaking his head all the way. 

“What? Did I hit a nerve?” I ask as he gives me my backpack, face still red. He grits his teeth and snaps his head in my direction, watching longingly as I laugh at him. He shakes his head and pushes me backwards until I stumble back in the car. 

He throws his backpack in the backseat and mine too, even though he had just gotten them out. And then what I don’t expect is for him to reach down and recline my seat all the way, climbing on top of me and slamming the car door. 

“Five minutes,” he says, straddling my hips. “Five minutes, and  _ only _ kissing.” 

I grin at him, my stomach twirling. I already feel breathless as I reach my hand up and curl it in his hair, bringing his head down closer to mine. When our foreheads knock together, his breath hitches and he places an eskimo kiss on my lips. He breathes into my neck and I feel my hair stand on end. I bite my lip as he knocks his cheek against mine and whispers into my ear with hot breath, “God, Kenma, you are  _ so _ lucky that this car has tinted windows.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! i’m so so sorry that this is as late as it is—i’ve been sick this past week and trying to catch up on work at school, not to mention i’m getting ready for a choir competition coming up. i’m thinking i might be able to get chapter 17 out this weekend, but please don’t count on it religiously, especially since i’m going through another round of sickness from my new medication.... don’t forget to bookmark if you haven’t so you’re always caught up, and leave a comment telling me what you think! does the dynamic kuroken have make you uncomfortable at all? what do you think will happen when the boys get to school? is this peace between kenma and kuro going to last? thank you so much for reading, i’ll see you soon! 
> 
> kelsey <3


	17. return

Kuro stays close by my side as we walk from his parking spot and into the school building. We walk, but something feels off. Kuro is oblivious, but as we reach the school entrance, I can feel the stares of my peers harsher than a pair of laser lights firing down on me. Their eyes sit heavy on my fragile skin. 

“Kuro, people are staring,” I murmur as he opens the door for me and I walk through, sighing at the sight of such a depressingly familiar place. 

The staring only becomes much, much worse as we trek down the main hallway. Kuro slowly inches away from me, obviously he’s noticed the staring. He keeps a ‘respectable’ distance between us, it kind of pisses me off. It slits a vein in me, that realization that I’m not out here and Kuro doesn’t want me to be. He doesn’t want us to be out. It hurts, it stings the scars covering my skin as he keeps a distance away. He plans to keep to the same routine we used to keep before. The one that almost killed me. 

The annoyance and the feeling of being unwanted itches at my wrists like little razors, but I just pull my sleeves down and ignore it. Kuro shoots a soft-eyed look at me, he smiles. He whispers almost silently, “At least you’re look cute in your uniform.” 

I roll my eyes. “I don’t care. Did you tell everyone or something? This is weird.” 

Kuro shrugs, though I know he’s hiding something. I can tell, he won’t make eye contact and he’s doing that weird neck-roll/twitch thing he does when he’s nervous. He leads me to my locker and leans against the wall as I open the door and begin to unpack my school books. 

People whisper all around us. And although I can’t make out what they say, I know they’re talking about me. I hear the voices and I feel the long gazes of my peers as they walk past me on their way to class. I hate it. 

“Kuro, am I going to have to endure this all day?” I ask, looking up just to see my supposed boyfriend completely zoning out, a stupid expression resting on his dumb face. I clear my throat. “Kuro.” 

He blinks a few times and looks down at me with a smile, though his eyes are still quite glassy. “Are you ready? Do you want to go to my locker with me or do you want me to walk you to class?” 

I frown. “I want everyone to stop staring.” 

He bites his teeth together abruptly, as if he’s done something wrong and can’t fix it. What did he do? Who did he tell? My mind is ravenous for knowledge, suddenly I want to know everything that happened while I was gone.

Kuro looks at his sneakers with a sigh. “Kenma…” 

“My attempt and hospital stay were supposed to stay private! What happened to that? Who told everyone?”

His smile sifts away like sugar, leaving his face bitter. I know he’s hiding something, but he doesn’t air it for me. “Kenma, calm down,” he whispers instead, then frowns. He’s ugly when he frowns. “Let’s just… go to my locker, okay?”

He looks around a few times, obviously paranoid. It annoys me greatly, but I know I need to be understanding of him—his situation. Hell, maybe I’m the one who’s paranoid. Why would he tell anyone about me? His dad would figure it out if he did that! 

But…that reassurance doesn’t stop the ache. I just want to hold his hand, that’s all. I just want to be protected in this insane world. I just want to feel safe. 

“Fine, fine. But you aren’t off the hook, Kuro. Did you tell everyone?” I ask, to which he shakes his head. I still don’t fully trust him, but I don’t think anybody could blame me for it. Kuro looks as if he’s about to speak and I cock my eyebrow, but he seals his lips shut. I sigh. 

“Whatever,” I say, closing my eyes as I shut my locker. I look at him as if to tell him to lead the way to his locker. He smiles at me sadly, brushing our hands and clasping my palm in his for a split second before he breaks away. It strikes a chord in me, obviously, as I immediately blurt, “I’m sorry for being so mean. I’m just… I’m scared of what everyone has to say.”

He nods. “I get it, it’s okay. But like I said, anytime you need me…” 

I shrug him off and sigh loudly. He bumps my shoulder with a grin and I snort, bumping into him in return. He starts walking and I follow by his side, he starts talking about volleyball and my mind begins to drift. 

As we’re walking down the hallway, I see familiar faces surrounding us. But as soon as I notice their stares and start falling into a near panic attack, Kuro brings me back up with a question or a brush of hands. It’s as if he can see right through me, suddenly as he slides closer to me and our hips and arms are slipping against one another. I stop for a moment, confused by his closeness when I don’t feel anxious. I only realize the source his soothing efforts when a familiar, shrill voice rings in my ears. 

“Kenma!” 

I practically jump in the air with the sudden yell. I snap my head around. It’s Lev. 

I resist the urge to grab Kuro’s hand, but I don’t. And anyways, I don’t have to yearn for comfort long before Kuro slips his hands through my hair, grinning as he ‘jokingly’ dishevels my hair and says to Lev, “He decided to come back today!”

Lev smiles with all of his teeth, it’s kind of ugly. He asks excitedly, “Are you coming to volleyball?” 

I bite my lip. Shit, I haven’t thought about that. I look to Kuro, who knows immediately what to say. It soothes my heart so much, knowing he will answer anything I don't know how to. He’ll be there whenever I can’t be there for myself. Right? 

“It depends on how the day goes. Coach probably won’t have him play if he does stay because it would be a lot, but I might drive him home before practice.”

Lev nods, then looks me in the eyes. I look away quickly, but he fights hard to keep eye contact with me and I hate it. He asks, “Are you okay now? Like, are you going to be chill in classes and such? Like, if you get into an argument with somebody else you’re not going to pull a knife on yourself or something?”

I blink a few times, my mouth hangs open. I bet I look stupid, but I can’t help it. It’s as if in that moment, I forget what words are. My mind blanks—I don't even know what to say. Or if I’m supposed to say anything. Should I be angry? Maybe I’m supposed to start crying? Or, I don’t know, maybe I’m supposed to pull a knife out on myself right now and slit my fucking wrists right in front of him, like any depressed person would totally, legitimately do. 

Kuro looks mortified, and his face would make me lose my shit if the situation wasn’t so embarrassing. God, even I feel the secondhand embarrassment. Or maybe it’s just firsthand, because Lev doesn’t look embarrassed in the slightest. He just looks dumb, as always. 

“Lev—“ Kuro says, his voice rising and getting heavier. I bite my lip and look at the floor, knowing whatever he says next will be a bomb. And it’ll either make me cry or laugh, I’m not sure yet. Kuro looks at me, I shake my head softly. He grits his teeth. “Shut up, Lev.” 

I snort. Lev looks at the pair of us questioningly, absolutely no idea of what he did wrong in mind. But he isn’t worth the effort, I already know that. I shake my head.

“Don’t worry about me, Lev,” I sigh, tugging on Kuro’s sleeve to keep walking. Lev blinks at us stupidly, but he doesn’t follow as I pull Kuro away. Kuro gets self-conscious within a few seconds though, pulling his arm away from me. I roll my eyes, annoyed. It was just his fucking sleeve I was hanging onto. 

We walk up a staircase to Kuro’s locker, (since he’s older, his locker is upstairs) and I pray to God that I won’t see anybody else I know. But I know it’s bound to happen, Kuro’s locker is right next to Yaku and Kai’s. We’re bound to see one of them, that’s just my fucking luck. 

I murmur, “Kuro?” To which he looks over at me. I sigh. “I don’t want to talk to anybody today.”

He sighs. “I know, Kenma.” 

I bite my lip, sighing again because that’s the only thing I can do to prevent me from breaking down right here. School is just so… agonizing. Socializing, learning, thinking, the drama.. God, it just fucking sucks. 

“Kuro,” I say again, but I didn’t need to say it. He’s already paying attention. “Why does this all have to feel so… heavy?” 

His shoulders lighten and he looks at me sadly. “I wish it wasn’t,” he says, so lightly his voice glides on the air like a bird. An albatross around my neck when he whispers, “I wish I could carry it for you.” 

I shake my head. “God, no you don’t. Don’t even say that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya fellas, i’m back again and not on schedule. i think i’ll be moving updates to once a week as i’m moving into high gear at school and i have a busy february coming up. i hope you’re enjoying this week thus far and i hope you’re staying safe and healthy during this illness outbreak. expect another update sometime next week, maybe this weekend if i find time to edit and write more. anyways, thank you so much for reading! bookmark if you haven’t so you’re always caught up and leave me a comment! do you think kenma is too temperamental? what about kuroo, whats he thinking? as always, i love to hear what you have to say, it really boosts me. 
> 
> kelsey <3


	18. lie

We come to his locker, and my superstition is correct. But instead of having to deal with one, (I hoped it would be Kai, he has such a soothing voice. I’m sure he would understand) both Yaku and Kai stood at their lockers and snap their heads in our direction when Kuro greets them and introduces me (which, honestly, fuck him for doing that). 

“Kenma!” Yaku grins, sliding his things into his organized locker before making his way towards me, his arms outstretched. 

My chest jumps, but I am able to soothe the anxiety and I manage to croak out, “Please don’t—”, to which he pulls away quickly, considerately with a smile still sitting upon his lips. 

“How are you?” He asks, shrugging off the rejected hug quite easily (which I’m thankful for) and taking his books back into his arms. He looks so kind, unlike back at the training camp when he looked upon me harshly. I wonder what changed.  _ Was it me, was it him, or was it Kuro? _ “We’ve been missing you a lot, I won’t lie. Not only on the team but also on the group chat.”

I allow myself to smile for him, but just once. I let it fade and say, “Sorry. It’s… everything has just been a lot for me lately.”

That doesn’t even begin to cover it, but I won’t go into detail for him. He doesn’t want to hear about it just as much as I don't want to tell him about it. Kai, who was talking to Kuro, turns to grin at me as well. 

“Kozume,” he says, acknowledging me. I don’t say anything, I just kinda… nod at him. He moves aside for Kuro to rummage in his locker, crouching on the ground. 

Yaku sighs and says, “We’re glad you’re back, truly. We just… we’re kind of lost for words, y'know? We don't know what to say, we obviously don’t want to hurt you. We can’t imagine what you went through.”

I purse my lips. “I’m really not as fragile as you think I am,” I murmur, but I’m not sure that Yaku hears it. He’s focused on arranging the already arranged stack of textbooks in his locker. I sigh. 

“Yeah, we’re stoked to see you again. And Kuroo doesn’t look like he wants to die anymore, so that’s a bonus,” Kai jokes, and Yaku snickers. Neither Kuro or I laugh, but at least I don’t look as uncomfortable as Kuro does. 

“I never was acting like I wanted to die,” Kuro says, words drawn out. He stands up and shuts his locker with his foot. He grins at me then rolls his eyes at Yaku. “I just missed him, okay?”

Kai scoffs. “We know that much.” He grins and continues, “You posted about it literally every other hour, it was fucking annoying.”

In return, Kuro glows red and Yaku shakes his head. He looks at me quickly and upon noticing the clueless expression I must be showing (because truly, I am clueless. But fuck it to hell, I want him to continue more than anything.) Yaku looks as if he’s about to speak. But then to my luck, Kuro interrupts. 

“Shut up, Kai,” he jokes, masking his embarrassment with a bad face of laughter. He looks at me as if to plead that he was joking, but I can tell full well he does  _ not _ want this conversation to be happening. 

Kai rolls his eyes. “Why should I? You moped all over social media for like, four weeks straight, was it? You know, the whole.. attempt that happened at the camp could have been kept secret if you weren’t such a sap.”

Kuro shoots his eyes like daggers at Kai, who doesn’t look fearful or embarrassed or even regretful, not in the slightest. 

I feel some sick feeling rise up in my stomach, I croak, “Kuro? What is he talking about?”

And that’s when it all clicks in Kai—and God, the mere expression he wears makes me want to break down crying. I fucking knew Kuro was lying to me. 

“Kuro,” I say, looking at Yaku and Kai (they both are stone-faced) before punching Kuro in the shoulder. “What the hell is he talking about? Did you tell everyone?”

“Kenma,” he murmurs softly, and I open the conversation to let him speak, even if he’s going to spew bullshit. “I… I didn’t know who else to talk to, I kind of just lost control…” 

“Did you or did you not tell everyone that I tried to kill myself?” I ask, my voice louder and clear enough for the entire locker bay to hear. But damn, they already know, so who am I to care? Kuro already told everyone through his social media.

“I…,” he begins, and I back away when I see the guilt on his face.

“Oh my God!” I yell at him, because I don’t know what else to say. My mouth sits agape because my lips don’t know where else to go, and the world around me starts swirling as I stumble backwards. “Everybody knows because you couldn’t keep your trap shut on Instagram?” 

He looks down, I shake my head. “What the fuck, Kuro!” I yell, to which Yaku tries to step forward and console me.

He whispers, “Kenma, calm down,” and tries to take my hands, but I shake my head and shake him off, backing up even further. My eyes start to water and I look at Kuro harshly, but he won’t look at me. I can’t believe it. 

“Kuro! Don’t just ignore me!” 

But he ignores me. He looks around more, then sighs and walks towards me, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the lockers.

“What the fuck? Get off me!” I cry, his arm across my chest as he pushes me back. He looks frightened and guilty, so guilty; his gaze stays solid with the ground as he sighs. He looks up carefully, and at this point I’m crying. I don’t even care who sees it, because right after he lets me go I’m going to go to the school counselor and call my mom. 

He brushes my cheek and I feel the urge to smack his hand down, but I don’t. I let him caress my skin, and I just cry while he does it.

“Kitten,” he murmurs, so quietly I almost can’t hear it. 

I shake my head, a sob erupting from the pit of my stomach. He’s about a foot away from me, but it feels as if I’m being choked. 

“Kuro, don’t play this shit with me.” I push past him, crying. I look at Yaku and Kai before shaking my head. “Did you just hope I would never find out or something? Were you just going to lie to me forever?”

Kuro says nothing, so I fill the silence. 

“I’m going home. I’m calling my mom and I’m going home.” 

He looks heartbroken, but I really don’t care. It’s so obvious that he’s the reason everyone knows about me. I was afraid this would happen—there’s a reason I don’t have any social media downloaded on my phone currently. Too scared of all of the messages I must have gotten, good or bad. 

He sighs loudly and I start walking, avoiding the incessant, unending stares of fellow students. I huff when a girl watches for too long and I glare—she looks away quickly. But most of all, I can feel Kuro’s eyes on me as I retreat and he stands in the same place, watching as I walk away. 

He doesn’t chase after me.

And that upsets me a lot more than I thought it would. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! sorry for the hiatus... it’s been a lot recently. i hope you like this chapter. i can’t tell you when i’ll update again. thanks for reading 
> 
> \- kelsey


	19. rip

My mom picks me up from school, sympathy glowing on her face as I close the car door and immediately break down. We end up sitting in the parking lot for forty-five minutes while I tell her everything. She tries to comfort me, telling me that I’m wonderful as I am, even without Kuro. That I don’t need him, but I do need to realize that all people make mistakes and my suicide attempt must have been really hard for him; especially because he’s always trying to take care of me.

I don’t like to think about him, but my mom said our relationship wasn’t worth ruining over this. So I texted him, once, and it read:  _ I’m extremely upset with you _ . 

My mom said that was all I needed to do, and he would pour everything—like a broken faucet. 

But it still hurts. He might have just made a bad decision at the moment, but that doesn’t excuse that he made a bad decision. It hurts like a gun to my heart—but I’m gonna replace those bullets with flowers and blow a cavern in my head full of cotton. 

And Kuro’s going to wish he never fucked up, that’s for sure. 

When we get home, I trudge up the stairs slowly to my and stop at the top of the banister—waiting for my mother to be out of sight before I bolt towards my room and lock my door. 

I slide to the floor and knock my head against the wood with a sigh. I sling my backpack against the carpet and stare at my walls, teeth clenched as Kuro floods my mind. 

_ Just watch _ , Kuro.  _ Just wait _ . You’ll see, I’m going to replace those bullets with the flowers you gave me, and I'm going to shoot you up. I don’t want your fucking pity roses—you’re nothing but a liar, and a terrible one at that. 

God, I need to trust myself. Mama was right, I can do without him. I don’t need him to succeed—all I need is myself. I shouldn’t depend on one boy, I shouldn’t lay all of my cards down for him. (Or so he might think he has me trapped, all of my cards lying face-up. But he doesn’t know about the trick in the back, the ace up my sleeve. I'm going to tear him apart.) 

There’s so many pictures everywhere, I hate it. It makes me sick—God,  _ fuck _ Kuro. I need to stop letting him make these mistakes; I need to find myself some self-control and kick his ass to the curb. I have to set my boundaries, I have to tell him this isn’t good for me. 

It makes me feel like a monster, thinking like this. Because he needs me, or so he says. But his actions really make me wonder; has he ever really needed me? Or did he just need a whore, because God knows I was good at being one of those. 

All I feel is frustration. A need for vengeance, possibly. A little bit of anger—and it all races around in my veins and clots the blood not only in my head, but also my heart. I can’t think right; what’s worse, however, is that I can’t feel anything the right way either. I’m clouded in one dull, sharp thought itching at my nose like a flower allergy.  _ Shoot him down _ .

I stand up. I need a change. I need to do something bad. I need to get him out of here—his energy fogs my room like a bad incense, smells like rotten roses resting on my dresser. 

That’s where I’ll start. The roses he gave me. I’ll get rid of them—no, no, I need to do worse. I’ll rip them apart and prick my fingers with each and every thorn. That’s what I’ll do, then I’ll pitch them out my window and let them dissipate into rot, fueling the garden at the base of our house. From the ashes of our relationship I’ll grow—I can do it. His flowers may die and grow me an entire garden, but only his actions will be my ammunition to rise up as a blooming, flowery phoenix. 

I take to my dresser and grab the bouquet of roses by the plastic wrap, then shred it off and squeeze my fist around the thorny stems. I feel the pricks slip under my skin as my palm reddens, but I could care less. With my free hand I pluck each and every bulb off each and every pretty flower, crushing the petals in a fist and taking to the window with my orb and scepter in hand. 

With a free finger I unlock the window and open it, gritting my teeth as a conglomerated bouquet of wind and harsh, cold air thrashes my frail skin. 

I grimace, shivering.  _ Isn’t this a sore reminder of my catharsis? _

I brace the freezing cold and drop the petals in my left hand out the window, watching wistfully as they fly away. I pluck another flower bulb from its stem and destroy it in a fist, repeating the same motions. I do it again, flinging the petals out the window as I hold the dozen stems with more vigor. I repeat the process nine more times, watching each and every petal fly away from me. 

When the delicate flowers are gone, I take the stems and slit both my palms across their thorns before dropping their bloodied bodies into the flowerbed beneath my window. 

My hands bleed—I let them. 

But my mind still races—I’m still angry. He still fills me up inside, I need to go further. I need more destruction. 

I look around my room, eyes darting in every direction before I settle on my cork board. 

_ The pictures!  _

I’ll take them down with my bloody hands and rip them to shreds, I’ll trash the remains and let the stains be a reminder of my strength. 

I make way to the corkboard and rip the pictures off, leaving the thumbtacks in their place. I don’t even look at the first one—it’s the most recent. Kuro and I taking a selfie at our favorite discreet date spot, fucking Starbucks. His cheek is pressed against mine and I'm beaming so wide, our puffy jackets are pressed against one another. It was December, two months ago. 

I don’t even need to look at the picture to know exactly what’s going on, I’ve looked at it so often and let it cradle me when Kuro wasn’t with me. I clench my teeth and rip the glossy paper in two, then four. I drop it on the floor with a shaky sigh. 

_ You are strong, Kenma. You’re so much stronger than you could ever know.  _

I grimace. The voice in my head usually isn’t this nice—but I guess today marks a special occasion. 

I shake it off. I grab another picture and rip it up. Then another, then another, then another. Blood drips all around me, but I couldn’t care less. The floor is stained with a reminder of all of the pain Kuro caused me. Maybe it’ll remind me to stay away from him. But maybe it won’t. I don’t know. My head is fuming too hard to think. I just rip. I take another picture down and rip it. I cry a little bit when I slice my thumb on the edge of a photo, then rip it twice more than the others. I drop all the pieces on the floor and they scatter around my feet like ashes to a phoenix. I’m the phoenix. 

And I’m going to make Kuro wish he never met me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! here’s another chapter! i’ll see you next week with chapter 20!!! also, i made a writing twitter! follow it @/tabfics and see me tweet abt works in progress, small oneshots, and au ideas! thank you so much for reading and as always, leave a comment telling me what you think. next chapter should be longer x 
> 
> kelsey <3


	20. question

I go back to school today, even though I don’t want to. 

After my breakdown yesterday, I took the picture scraps and threw them out. I washed my hands and bandaged them, much to my mother’s dismay when I met her in the kitchen for dinner. She noticed the pictures were gone when she put me to bed—but she didn’t see the blood littering the ground, for I covered the splotches up with dirty laundry, hoping my mother wouldn’t pick them up for a while until I could bleach out the color. 

She didn’t find out about the stains, but that didn’t stop her from worrying this morning when I woke her up to drive me to school. She acted so… strangely. She sat up, defensively, almost; she ran her hand through her hair and stopped it at her neck. She bit her lip and asked me softly, “Are you sure you’re ready to go back?” 

I nodded, to which she shook her head. Her eyes moved from my face to my bandaged hands, and then to the ground. She sighed. I fiddled with my fingers, embarrassed, and told her, “It’s time to go. I took a shower and ate already. You just need to drive me.”

And reluctantly she did. She asked me about seventy more times if I was ‘sure’ that I was ‘ready to go back’. Soon I stopped responding, but she didn’t stop asking. 

We’re pulling into the parking lot now. 

“I have practice today, so pick me up at five,” I murmur, to which my mom bites her lip and nods. She sighs and eyes me with a concerned look, then shakes her head and sighs again. She seems so distressed, but she needs to learn to cope without me. And I need to learn how to cope without her. 

“Will you be okay with… your hands?” 

I grimace, a little pissed that she even asked. But I know she’s just trying to look out for me. My hands do hurt, but I packed pain medicine to take before practice, so I know I‘ll manage. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ll text you if anything goes wrong.” 

I don’t know if I’ll really be fine, but I’m not sure I care anymore. I might text her, I might not. I don’t really care. I don’t feel anything. I always feel numb after a breakdown, and God knows I threw a massive fit yesterday. I’m almost embarrassed. Almost. 

I wonder if my mom will ever realize what truly happened. I hope she notices something is off, I don’t like confronting her myself. I like it when she comes to me first—after that, it all spills out of me. It always goes badly when I try to confront her first, she never knows how to react and it usually puts a rift in our relationship until she figures out how to treat me like her child again. 

I open the door to the car and slip a brief smile towards my mother, because she deserves it. She does so much for me, and I love her more than anyone. “I love you,” I say, waving before softly closing the door. 

I watch as she waves back, nervously albeit. I feel bad, almost. But I need to do this for myself. I can’t let her coddle me forever, I need to face my peers. My teachers. My team.  _ Kuro _ . 

I sigh before adjusting my backpack on my shoulders. I look around the parking lot, it’s bustling with activity but it doesn’t seem as if anyone has noticed me yet. That’s a good sign. 

I step forward, and then again, and I just keep walking. Stepping forward again and again, further into the spotlight of the burning sun. I fear the heat, but at least then everyone will take me for what I am. I need to accept myself, that’s a given. But will others accept me? I don’t know. I don’t want to be around anyone who won’t accept me. 

I push through the heavy glass doors leading into the school and dart my head down to avoid any potential eye contact. I beeline to my locker and without a word, I unpack my things and create a stack of books for my first set of classes. I feel a sense of peace in my silence, I feel okay. Like if I can remain the way I am currently throughout the day, then I will be able to make it. If I can stay quiet in mind and in speech, then I know I can do this. It’s only a matter of what events will be presented to me during my school day; that’s what scares me. 

—

I manage to live. I collapse beside the boys’ locker room door, an analog on the wall clock reads 2:49. I have eleven minutes until practice starts, eleven minutes to recuperate. 

First period was rough. I walked into class a minute before the bell and was immediately met with every single eye in the room. I felt their stares inject needles inside of my stomach, I almost puked on impact. I sat at my seat and my teacher didn’t make a big deal of my return or the ‘event’ which caused my absence, and that was nice. I heard classmates whispering about me throughout our constructive time, but I wasn’t angry at them. The only thought on my mind was how badly I was going to kick Kuro’s ass when I regained the strength to do so. He’s the reason everything is the way it is currently. 

Second period was okay. It was better than first, but I also became eased to the constant looks I was receiving. I asked my teacher for the work I missed and she smiled at me, giving me what I needed and saying nothing more. 

Third period was the worst, though. I was hungry and tired and was at the apex of my emotions when a few girls decided to come up to me and ask me the most personal questions they could think of.

_ “Did you really try to kill yourself?” _

_ Yes _ . I almost wanted to laugh. 

_ “Is it true you swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills?”  _

_ Also yes. But I would never tell you _ . I felt my heart was wrapped in cellophane, their wolverine claws were begging to rip through the material, the wretched sound of their howling left echoing in my chest. 

_ “Did you like the attention?” _

_ No. I hated every single second of it _ . They wouldn’t stop. All I wanted was for them to stop. My entire body was convulsing, they were tearing me apart and turning my corpse from the inside out. 

_ “Did you set up the third year to post about you like that?”  _

_ Fuck no. Don’t bring Kuro into this _ . My head was spinning, my mouth hung agape and dumbly. My eyes were glazed over, but there was fire licking at my veins and my blood was rushing from head to toe, circling and circling my bones like sharks circling and circling fresh, bloodied flesh. 

Then the one that shot me in the heart the hardest:

_ “Did you really attempt suicide over a  _ **_boy_ ** _?”  _

It was word vomit, just spewing out of their mouths, haphazardly and all over the place. I had no idea how to react. It wasn’t like I talked to these girls on a normal basis, I didn’t know how to treat them. If it were Kuro, I would have told him off. Any of Kuro’s underlings would have been cursed out as well. If it were Lev, or one of my friends, I would call them out and explain. But these girls didn’t fall into either category. And yet, they still found themselves crowding around my desk like a committee of vultures to a carcass. Their words peck-peck-pecking on my brain until it turned to mush and I had no idea how to respond. 

I ended up stumbling over my words, so much that eventually they lost interest and found themselves back at their rightful seats, adorning my figure with nicknames like ‘hog’ and ‘spaz’ for all the attention I ended up with, and respectively how I reacted to it. 

It was hard not to cry through the rest of that class. 

Lunch—I skipped that all together. I avoided the canteen and walked to the back staircase where Kuro and I used to hangout and kiss during free periods. Alas, I ended up turning around when I saw  _ him _ there, leaning against the wall with a sly look on his face. He wasn’t looking at me, though, he was charming a girl from his class. Looking at her with his suave, seductive eyes; I almost didn’t recognize that it was him, flirting with a girl, until he noticed me coming and broke eye contact with her. I only recognized it was him when I saw the embarrassment scattered over his stupid, flushed expression. 

I turned around with nothing to say; I walked to the nearest restroom. I didn’t control my body as I locked myself in a stall and sat down on the toilet seat, I couldn’t control my mind as thoughts of him rapidly rolled through my head like a sad indie film. I started crying and the teardrops stained my cheeks—they were glittering stars falling from a dark, hopeless sky. 

I felt like a crater in space, a black hole in the human universe. Sucking away the soul of everyone around me, including myself. Taking in all of the emotional distress pouring off everyone and drinking it as my cup of tea. Empathizing without realizing it, I didn’t even notice until I really thought about why I was crying. It wasn’t because I saw Kuro with a girl, it was because I felt  _ bad _ that he managed to stoop so low. 

Once I realized why I was crying, I was quick to shut up and be done with it. I walked out and found myself in the gym, watching a first year class play basketball. 

Fourth period was toxic, but not as bad as my third period. It was a study hall. I was able to catch up on some work, think about death for a few minutes, and also write a letter for Kuro. Obviously I wasn’t going to give him the letter, so I held no bars when writing. I wrote about how much of a lying piece of shit he was and how maybe he deserves to feel the same pain that I feel. I planned to seal the letter, then rip it up and trash it. But writing just made me feel pissed and dispirited, my thoughts had spiraled so far that I was actively wishing pain and spilled blood upon him. 

I sat in the counselor’s office for all of fifth period. It was nice to have a break. What wasn’t nice was the staff’s awful choice of background music. 

Sixth period was fine. I felt so numb, the stares just slid right off me, as if I were ice, and I was cool. It wasn’t relaxation, but more of a stupefied type of feeling. I didn’t care about what else was going to happen, I was too drained of emotion from all of the previous overstimulation that I was desensitized to even my teacher asking me how I was doing in front of my entire class. I just nodded my head and said I was fine, but now that I’m back to my senses I’m shocked that I didn’t start crying. 

I packed my things and have them with me now, my backpack sitting beside me on the dirty linoleum floor. Ten minutes until practice starts, which means roughly five more minutes for me to contemplate existence before I have to shove myself into the locker room and change into my volleyball clothes. Five more minutes until I was exposed to the entire team, once again, and I would have to deal with their judgment and snippy comments and their  _ captain _ . Five more minutes until I have to confront Kuro, then set for his ungrateful, newly girl-crazy ass for three hours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi. hopefully updates will be more frequent now with the whole quarantine thing. hope you all are doing well through this difficult time. 
> 
> bookmark if you haven’t so you’re always updated when i update, and leave a comment telling me what you think if you would like. 
> 
> have a great week 
> 
> kelsey <3


	21. eavesdrop

When I see the clock read ‘2:55’, I force myself to stand up and prepare for the next three hours. I don’t want to be here—I really don’t—but I know I have to force myself to come back to life. I could totally make up some bullshit excuse and have my mom pick me up now—but no matter how bad I want to, I know I shouldn’t. I can’t. I need to do this. I need to come back to my social life, fall back into my normal life before I become completely inept and awkward. 

I take a deep breath and step forward, wrapping my fingers around the door handle. I close my eyes tightly as I yank it open and am greeted with the disgusting smell of sweat and body odor. I have to force myself not to gag, I keep the bile down as I walk inside like nothing happened. Like I’m in the same mindset now that I was before our training camp. I push it down, I have to pretend my suicide attempt never happened. I hope they’ll pretend too. 

I close the door with a sigh. I ignore the few teammates already present. I don’t count how many I see in my peripheral vision, I don’t look around to see who stares at me the wrong way, I don’t make any noise. I simply make my way to my gym locker and open it, slouching my backpack against the half-wall that divides the two locker bays. I set my bag of practice clothes in the open locker, closing my eyes. 

_ I can do this _ . I know I can. I shouldn’t worry, but I can’t help the anxiety from vibrating in my hands and head. I take a deep breath and continue on. 

There’s only a couple of boys in my portion of the locker room. I ignore them as well; I unbutton my school slacks with another deep breath, allowing myself to acknowledge that I’ve made it this far. That’s something to be proud of, I know, but I can’t help feel as if I’m manipulating some sort of fate to be in the spot where I am. I should be dead, not here, lingering in the back of everyone’s mind like a seemingly harmless snakebite. 

I put my school uniform pants in my locker, neatly, before pulling out shorts for practice. I hate this stupid spandex shit, but it's just a part of volleyball and I can’t avoid it. I feel eyes on me as I bend over to slip my legs through the shorts, but they can stare all they want. I’m not watching back. 

They can see the scars on my thighs and calves, I don’t mind. They’ll see that I’m human. That I make mistakes. That I wasn’t faking; that I’m real, and I’m as fucked up as they come. That I’m not going to change, I’m going to be like this forever and they’re helpless to stop it. 

“Kozume,” I hear, murmured from across the room. I don’t look up to see who’s trying to get my attention, but I know it isn’t Kuro. I would be able to find his voice in any crowd, even easier in a silent locker room. It’s definitely not him, and I’m kind of disappointed. Though I’d never admit it to anybody. “What are you doing?” 

I scoff. “Getting ready for practice,” I sigh, sliding my tights over my hips and transitioning into unbuttoning my shirt. I keep my cool easily, and I’m so damn grateful for it as I hear footsteps emerge closer. 

I feel eyes on me, sending a bold sense of paranoia straight into my skull. That’s when I see Shibayama beside me, eyes wide and mouth small. His voice is small too as he says, “You might want to finish changing before Yamamoto and the other second and third years arrive.” 

I cock my eyebrow, making eye contact with him. I’m about to reply, but then the locker room door flies open and slams against the wall, followed by the harsh tune of loud laughter. It’s Lev, I already know, because he sounds like a donkey when he laughs. But he’s amongst others, chattering as if their heads are emptied of intellectual thoughts. I look at Shibayama and nod, quietly murmuring, “Thank you,” before he turns away and retreats to his locker. 

I ignore the rumble of my remaining teammates entering and I continue to unbutton my shirt. I loosen my tie and pull it over my head cooly as footsteps scatter all around me, voices chattering and chattering about stupid, useless topics. I’m quick to select Kuro’s laughter (it’s a ruby amongst the rocks. His voice is beautiful, it’s ingrained in my brain) as he talks to Yaku on the other side of the locker wall. I sigh. 

He’s directly across from me, but this wall separates us. They can’t see me, I can’t see them. All I see is Shibayama and a few other first years behind me, searching in their lockers. If I moved a few inches to the right, I would be in the pathway between the two locker bays. And a part of me wants to stand there, just to be seen by Kuro. But my logical mind keeps me in my place. It’s better that he doesn’t know I’m in here, I guess. Maybe he would accuse me of coming onto him again. But maybe he would hug me. It’s doubtful. 

I wrap my tie up and place it in my locker, then begin to slide off my shirt when I hear my name, sharp and clear, on the other side of the wall. I take myself to a halt, ears tuned to the conversation on the other side. 

“Another day, another wonderful practice without that  _ Kozume _ fagging around us, am I right?” 

The statement is followed by laughter, I don’t laugh. Instead, I feel my throat dry up. I stay silent.  _ Is this serious? Did I just hear that correctly?  _

“Dude, just think back like, last month. You think about it, he totally checked us out. I mean, he barely ever changed by his locker. He was always over here with  _ us _ .” 

I bite my teeth and look up.  _ Damn Kuroo _ , he was the only reason I changed over there. Because he wanted to talk to me. It hurts that they would think so lowly of me. 

The only other person on my side of the lockers is Shibayama, and he’s silent. He looks irritated, if not disappointed. But he’s a first year, he has no fight to infringe on his upperclassmen talking. 

“God, that’s so fucking gay. It’s gross.” 

I shake my head and take my shirt off, folding it and placing it in my locker. Shibayama, who’s done changing, walks towards me and stands beside me as I finish changing. We make quick eye contact and he nods, as if to reassure me that he’s there. It’s nice, he reminds me of Tadashi a little bit.  _ Just a little bit _ . 

“Well, at least we know where his ass won’t be allowed anymore!” 

And with Yamamoto’s comment, the room burst into wild and doglike, absolutely raw, unhinged laughter. 

And it hurts. 

Really badly. 

“Damn, it’s wild to think we’ve been with him all year and this stuff just started happening. It’s like he turned rabid, all of a sudden.” 

A few of my teammates scoff, a few snicker. I don’t do either. I frown. I’m not a dog, they have no right to treat me like one. They have no right to hold my name on their tongues, to bark my name from their mouths. They have no idea, they have no right to judge. 

I grab my locker door and watch my knuckles turn white from the grip

It’s then that I hear Yaku say, “Oh, don’t just go assuming pronouns, Fukunaga. You never know what bomb Kenma will drop on us next!” 

It stings, but I barely react. I bite my lip. What hurts more than the fact that Yaku, someone who seemed so considerate and caring, had said it—is the fact that he used my first name  _ while _ saying it. 

I guess he really understands what it means to keep your enemies close. 

I ignore the laughing, it’s washed out by my brain, even as Yaku calls out, “Am I wrong? You’ve seen how the guy looks before, right?” 

The laughing turns to howling. 

_ Who are the rabid ones now?  _

I sigh, shakily but quietly. I put my long shirt on with trembling arms, throwing myself around haphazardly as I do so. But the others don’t hear as I accidentally slam my hand against the metal locker door, they’re too busy barking at one another. I clench my teeth and grab a hair tie, wrapping my hair up as I try to ignore the shit-talking. 

Shibayama grabs my wrist and makes me look at him. He mouths, “I’m sorry.” 

I shake my head and squint my eyes closed, daring myself not to cry over a group of stupid boys. I have practice to get to, training to do and a coach to talk to about what I’ve missed. 

For once in my life, I can’t wait for our warm-up laps. I need something to let myself go, to get this rage bubbling up inside me out before I burst. I want to run. I need to run, as fast as I can, until I collapse, breathless. 

The room goes quiet, but my breathing is loud. I’m shaking, I’m angry. I’m upset. I feel so…  _ betrayed _ . 

And then I hear his voice.

“Kenma…,” Kuro murmurs, then scoffs. “That kid has some serious  _ problems _ .” 

My heart drops. 

“Yeah?” Yaku asks. I can see his stupid grimace in my head, I try to shake it out. I hear a locker door close across from me. 

“Yeah.” Kuro shuffles around, I hear his shoes squeak. I know they’re his, he’s the only one with squeaky shoes. I hate how I know that. “He’s…  _ God _ , being friends with him was like being friends with a time bomb. He was mad… mad in the head, I guess. He would cut himself all the time and have these…  _ breakdowns _ . Right in front of me. And it was freaky. He’s seriously ill. He needs help.” 

I slam my locker door shut. 

Everything hurts. And it hurts—not because he’s wrong, but because he’s  _ right _ . 

I take a deep breath and nod at Shibayama. 

Then I walk from my locker into the main bay where everyone is gathered, aiming to walk out the door. 

As soon as I step into the masses, I know their eyes set on me and their minds go mad. I frown. 

Yaku immediately starts, “Kenma, I—” 

But I cut him off. “It’s Kozume.” 

And I walk out the door, and into the gym. I’m the first one there. Coach Nekomata greets me with a wide smile, his eyes crinkle. 

I sigh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! hopefully updates will be more consistent now. i love u and hope u all are staying safe <3 leave a comment telling me what you think! what are your future predictions? 
> 
> \- kelsey


	22. strip

Trying to connect with Kuro during practice is like trying to contain a loose rodent. He misses half of the sets I give him, but the fault is on both of us. Neither of us are in the right mental state to practice right now. But I wasn’t the one to cause that. He’s the one who exploited my trust in him to the entire team. I have the right to be upset. And I am. I won’t even look him in the eye. He doesn’t deserve to see me. 

I take to practicing serves after a while of frustration, setting constantly for this group of boys I just heard shit-talking. I’m only able to get through a few lower hands and a sloppy upper hand before Kuro yells at me to go back to setting for hitting drills. If he weren’t the captain, I would’ve flipped him off. Hell, I would’ve flipped him off even though he is the captain; however, I don’t because I don’t want Coach Nekomata to worry about my sanity and the status of our friendship more than he already is. 

I return to my spot and our manager throws me volleyballs. I set high for Yamamoto and he glares at me when he misses the ball. I scoff and say, “You can jump higher than that.” He grumbles something about ‘fag’ and ‘shut up’ but I don’t even try to listen. He’s more of a bomb than I am, I won’t dare try to make sense with him. 

The only teammate who seems genuinely happy to have me back is Lev. And that annoys me, because Lev is obnoxious as hell. I set well for him and he misses. Not because we can’t connect, but because he sucks ass at volleyball. I kick him in the calf and say, “Get your head intact. Don’t bend your elbow like that.” 

He grins and his face flushes. “Sorry Kozume!” He laughs, then pulls me into a stupid hug. “I missed you! Even though I don’t really like what you did to Kuroo.” 

I scoff. “Kuroo lied to you guys.” 

Lev nods. “I know. He told us. Still… it was kind of harsh to punch him.” 

I roll my eyes, making myself laugh at his comment to protect from yelling or crying. “Whatever. Thanks though. I didn’t miss you.” 

He laughs loudly and punches me in the shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t!” With that, he runs to the back of the drill line, ambling like a tall horse as he does so. He’s so stupid. 

I try to ignore his comments as Kai comes to hit. I send him a mindless one and he slams it over with a satisfying grin. 

I sigh. I don’t even have enough time to collect my thoughts before I’m sent another ball. I set it and Inuoka spikes it over. 

But _fuck_. My arms hurt. My head hurts. My body hurts. I feel rusty, like I haven’t been used for too long. My muscles haven’t been stretched like this for a few weeks and I feel my stamina collapsing on me. I grab my head and push on my temples, begging for a break. 

I don’t get one. I almost miss a ball thrown at me, but I awkwardly grasp it and set it to Kuro. He misses and snarls at me. “Watch your sets. I’m going to send you home if you’re struggling like this.” 

I roll my eyes. “Don’t pretend like you care now,” I spit out, then sigh. “I’m completely fine. Maybe you should watch your hits.” 

He retreats, I don’t wait to see how he reacts. 

I go back to the drill. 

— 

When practice finally ends, I haul my heavy body back to the locker room and collapse on a bench next to my locker. Shibayama kindly throws a towel at me and I take it, wiping my head. I thank him and he shrugs, quickly changing into a non-sweaty pair of clothes and leaving me behind. He waves as he exits, and I chortle a goodbye his way. 

The team all enters one by one, Lev smacks shoulders with Shibayama as he exits and apologizes profusely before languidly making way to his locker. 

I don’t get up to open my locker, I stay lying on the bench with the towel over my face. I’m sweating, I’ll probably end up with a fever tonight because of how hard I practiced today. I feel my legs are weak and I sigh, knowing I need to text my mom to tell her that I’m coming outside soon. But I feel too drained of energy to get up and even open my locker, so I don’t. I remain lying down. 

I listen around me. On the other side of the locker bay I hear some of the boys having stupid conversations about girls, about homework, whatever. Most of them are quiet, however, and I find that ironic. They’re scared of me, they’re scared to talk to me. 

That is, until I feel something heavy dropped onto my stomach. 

I lurch up and throw the towel of my face, confused to see my bag in my lap. I look up, eyes scrunched, to see Yamamoto standing above me. His lips are bent into an ugly snarl. 

“What do you want?” I ask, scoffing. I take my bag and set it back down by my locker. 

He picks it right back up and drops it back on my lap. “Get out.”

I arch an eyebrow. 

“We don’t want a fag watching us change. Get out.” 

I scoff. “You think I want to watch you change? Please, I have standards.” 

Yamamoto’s eyes widen, angered, and he juts forward and shoves me. I almost fall off the bench, but I catch myself. I quickly throw my bag off my lap and stand up to face him. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shout, to which he bares his yellow dog teeth at me. 

“Are you fucking deaf, faggot?” He shouts, so loud it rings in the air. “I said get out!” 

“Don’t call me that,” I shout back, gritting my teeth right back at him. “I have every right that you have to remain in this locker room, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I don’t fucking care about you, about the other guys. I just want to change and go home.” 

I watch as the boys all jump to attention, gathering on my side of the locker room. I even see Kuro among them, watching silently. They all are quiet. 

I wish Shibayama was still here. Or even Lev—Jesus, did I really just say that? I don’t see his lanky body with the crowd, but… I wish I did. He wouldn’t stand for me to be slandered. 

Yamamoto spits on the floor. “You’re disgusting, you know that? You’re repulsive. And we all think that. Maybe you should just send your queer ass home and let us be. Nobody wants you here.” 

I look Yamamoto straight in the eye and manage a frown. “You’re a horrible person. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be allowed here.” My voice rises, I know it’s because I want to cry. I don’t, instead I yell. “You’re the one who’s repulsive! I’m just trying to fucking change my clothes! You’re the one who’s fucking obsessed with me! I could not give less a shit about you! I don’t know why you care so much about what I do, but you need to get a fucking life and leave me alone.” 

He tries to grab my arm but I pull it back and hiss, “Don’t you dare.” 

And everyone watches. I make eye contact with Kuro, and he looks down. He looks down. He just lets this happen, and I hate it. I scoff, and I make sure he knows I see him. “This is your fault, Tetsurou!” I scream, but Kuro doesn’t even look up at me. I scream again, in complete anger, and suddenly everybody is looking at the floor. 

Yamamoto tries to grab me again, but I dodge it and slap his arm away. He growls, “You’re crazy. You’re absolutely, fucking insane. I pity the fact that you weren’t able to get away with suicide, because God knows we all wish you did. You are nothing.” 

I grit my teeth, scared that I’ll cry. But I don’t… instead, I laugh. It’s cold, sharp, and it stings. “Oh, I’m _way_ past that.” 

I jump on top of the bench to get away from Yamamoto, and as I become the center of attention, I start to strip. Because I don’t care about this situation anymore. Because I’m angry and my emotions are going to get the best of me if I don’t leave soon. Because I want to go home, and I want him to leave me alone. I want them all to stop staring, I just want to be left alone. 

I want them to stop staring at me like I’m pitiful. So I take it into my own hands, watching as they all attempt to divert their eyes. I laugh again, harshly and cold. 

“You can stay if you want to see the show, but I’m just going to put sweatpants on and head home.” 

Yamamoto’s mouth drops completely open as I strip right in front of him, pulling my shorts down and taking them off. He watches as I do it, his face showing himself as completely and utterly appalled. I feel a smile creep over my lips, even though what he said hurt really badly. It feels nice to know that I’m hurting him right back, no matter how wrong I know it is. 

“Like what you see?” I tease, because the crowd of boys won’t stop watching me. I put my sweatpants on and put my school clothes in my bag, then jump off the bench. I close my locker and haul my backpack over my shoulder. I smile, then pat Yamamoto on the shoulder. “See ya tomorrow.” 

I leave, all eyes on me as I do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, the angst is even becoming too much for me.... wonderful knowing that this is only the beginning of the climax scale. 
> 
> anyways! thank you for reading, leave a comment to tell me what you’re thinking if you would like. it’s hard to choose sides, seeing as we only see kenma’s perspective, isn’t it? we have no idea what kuro is thinking, should we fully trust kenma to be reliable? 
> 
> kelsey <3


	23. catch

I’m completely, utterly relieved when the weekend finally comes.

Our most previous practices sucked ass. After I pulled my little ‘stunt’, it’s been hell to even try interacting with anyone other than Shibayama. Even Lev is avoiding me now, he’s been at Kuroo’s side like a leech. He wasn’t even there when it happened, but I’m sure he heard about it. I wonder how much it was exaggerated when Tora told him the story. 

They all look at me with disgust in their eyes, and I’m starting to feel like I deserve it. They all stopped bothering me in the locker room, but they also stopped asking for my sets during practice. No one has told the coach about my little breakdown yet, but I’m not completely sure they never will. I’m just glad to catch a break—even if it’s only for a measly two days. 

It’s Friday night now, I haven’t told my mom about anything major that has happened this week. I can feel myself slowly going crazy, I want to see my therapist so badly. Taking my plethora of pills each night makes me feel like I’m being taunted, I’m becoming worse and worse every day. Might as well call me ‘Popper’ at this point, I’m made more of these antibodies and enzymes than I am made of myself. 

I’m worse than I was at the training camp, I can feel it. 

It’s only now that I realize: this pain I am forced to feel doesn’t come from me slowly dying. It’s from wishing that I was already dead. 

It’s Friday night, I skipped dinner for a nap and now I’m wide awake, staring wistfully out my back window. The cool, crisp air bites my nose and cheeks as I peer into the garden below me. The rose stems have rotted by now, I’m assuming. But I don’t know. The ground is covered in a thick layer of snow, I can’t see anything past the small animal prints scattered across the winter sheet. 

I’m tired, I’m spacey, and I can see myself slowly fading in and out of a dissociative episode. I miss Kuro. I miss my friends. I miss being able to joke around with my team. I miss myself. 

I wish I never said anything. I shouldn't have. This would have all been avoided if I wasn’t so fucking selfish. Maybe if I asked Kuro why we couldn’t come out instead of bombarding him with my swollen anger then I would still be in his arms. What if he’s not the one at fault? 

What if it’s me? 

What if I’m the reason for this mess—what if I’m blowing it all out of proportion? What if I hurt him more than he has hurt me? 

No—I can't think about this.  _ There’s no way _ . 

...But I hope he’s doing alright. I really do. I worry about him sometimes, when it’s late like this. When my mother feels so far away that she’s reaching into the sky to grab me, and she can barely grasp my hand as I float higher and higher. My ears are getting clogged with the pressure, they wash out just about everything I hear. I couldn’t tell you about anything that I’m learning in school—I don’t know. My grades are slipping, I’m guessing, but I don’t know. I don’t care enough to check. 

I miss Kuro.

I miss my best friend. 

I feel a sharp gust of wind slap me in the face, the nearby sounds of cars tracing the road in the distance. I close my eyes, and I sigh. I could drop out the window right now, and nobody would know until tomorrow. 

_ Nobody would know _ . 

It’s the demon hours, nobody’s awake right now. Even my mom is asleep—it’s the perfect time for me to execute myself or at least release some of the pain through blood. I could lift myself up and fall headfirst into the dead garden below, my body could rot with the roses. And If the impact doesn’t kill me, I’m sure the hypothermia will. It’s a perfect situation. 

I reach my arm out the window and let it grasp a breeze, holding hands with the wind as it howls to me. I listen carefully, and I sob right back with it. Tonight would be the perfect night, nobody to worry over me till I’m fully dead. I can die peacefully if my death has to be slow with nobody above me wailing.  _ Perfect _ . 

I extend my upper body out the window as well, letting the air nip at my skin and lift my nightshirt up. The icy wind scours my abdomen and rips through my stomach; I cough. My skin prickles with goosebumps, but it’s okay. I shiver—I’m used to it. 

I’m leaning, I’m halfway there. 

My tears fall from my face to the ground, thirty-something feet below. My hair is held by the sky’s embrace, the dark vault of stars above me holds me close as I hoist myself onto my knees atop the windowsill. The angels watch me from where they sit atop the shining stars, their light raining down on me as I approach my second death. 

I have nothing to lose. No weight to hold me down—I feel free. I hold my arms out and bare my chest to the moon above my backyard, to the twinkling lights thousands of miles above me. I thank them for half a good time; it’s been quite a difficult run, but I’ve made it this far without shattering completely. There’s only a shard of myself left in my body—it pierces my heart which beats a stream of blood that isn’t mine. I have been gone for a long time. It’s time to put my corpse to rest now. 

I feel a guilty sense of euphoria as I scoot closer to the outside world, letting the palms of my hands press against the outside paneling of my bedroom. It’s frigid to touch, soon enough my fingers go numb. But it’s okay—it matches the rest of my empty, cold body. 

I’m ready to let go.

I hear the rustling of leaves as a cold front passes through and I breathe the frozen air into my lungs. It gets caught in my throat and turns me into ice. I take the cold as my own. I swallow it all up—but there is one thing I do not do.

I do not shiver. 

And that’s exactly when my door flies open with a death-defying screech, and I’m startled back to reality.

Light pours in from the hallway and I push myself back into my room quickly, holding my hands onto my window frame as I snap my head around to see who I presume to be my mother. My mouth immediately fills with words (excuses) as I open my lips—but then the words all fall out and onto the floor. 

It’s not her. 

“...Kenma?” 

I hold my breath and take my knees off the windowsill, landing on my feet. I turn fully around to face him—biting my lip. My eyes are peeled wide open from the cold, my hair is lifted by the air still pouring into my room. My skin is ghastly and my body is frozen. I must look like a ghost. 

“Yamaguchi,” I whisper, shaking my head quickly and spinning around to close my window. I lock it and make my way over to him, holding my arms out for him to envelop me in a confused hug. “What are you doing here?” 

“I… I wanted to see you. You haven’t been responding to your texts, I got worried.” He takes a deep breath and holds me tighter, dropping his bag on the floor to fully envelop me in his arms. He coughs. “Jesus fucking Christ, Kenma, you’re freezing cold.” 

I sigh. “Sorry.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! it’s been awhile. sorry about that. hopefully i’ll have more regular updates from now on, yeah? i started working so i haven’t had a lot of time to write—but this week is a slow week so i have less hours. 
> 
> leave a comment and kudos if you haven’t! and bookmark so you can stay updated when i update again
> 
> thanks for being by my side! 
> 
> kelsey <3


	24. revisit

We sit awkwardly on my bed together, looking at one another awkwardly. The silence is awkward. The cold air is awkward. And there’s so much that the both of us want to say, but we stay silent. Tadashi’s bag sits by his feet, he stares at it. I do too--I don’t know what else to look at or what else to feel. I want to tell him that he didn’t prevent a suicide, but I think he did. I’m just too scared to admit it. 

“So…” I cough out, swinging my legs off the side of my bed. He seems tired. I’m sure he wants to sleep, but I’m sure that he wants answers as well. I want answers too, but my body isn’t giving me any signals or any sirens. I don’t know why I did that. I don’t know what was going on in my head when I was hanging out the window. I’m embarrassed. He probably thinks I can’t even handle myself alone a month after the training camp. 

“So,” Tadashi replies, voice hollow. He sounds confused. I am too. 

“I didn’t know you were coming.” 

He sheepishly hides a smile, but I beckon him to let it show by shoving a faked grin in his direction. He runs a hand through his hair, as if to stall for a little bit longer. He scoffs awkwardly. This is awkward. 

“I wanted to see how you were doing. You’ve been really bad about answering your texts this past week, you know,” he tells me. I nod, I know. And I feel a little guilty, but not really. I’m surprised the news of the locker room hasn’t spread to schools like Fukurodani and Karasuno yet. I know I would have Bokuto on my ass if they did, probably even Akaashi. Hinata would be blowing up my phone, maybe even his setter would have something to say. But the truth is? I have no words. Everyone else seems to have a bigger mouth than I do about an issue that has nothing to do with them. It seems kind of racy to me. 

“Sorry, it’s been a long week.” 

Tadashi nods. “I understand that. For me too.”

We stay quiet for a moment, the only noise is the overhead fan whirring madly. He yawns. He is about to yawn again, but he holds it back. I hold back a snicker, then I yawn because he did. Awkwardly. Time passes, but it passes way too slowly and much too awkwardly. 

I should just break the ice now. He didn’t come all the way here just to have dry ass conversations all weekend. I sigh.

I decide to lie. 

“I wasn’t going to kill myself when I was hanging out the window, just so you know.”

He snaps his head in my direction, so hard that his hair flies with him. (I would find that funny if the situation wasn’t about suicide. Hell, I do find it funny. But not verbally.) His eyes are dilated. He wasn’t expecting me to say anything, and he’s shocked that I am. Slowly but surely, he nods his head. But his effervescent amber eyes stay locked with mine. It’s only now I notice how pretty he is. Objectively, that is. Subjectively, I already knew what I thought of him. I think he’s cute. Not my type, but cute. Lovely. His freckles are endearing, I wonder what it would be like to try to count them all. Or to connect them, like in the movies.

That isn’t relevant right now, though. I don’t know why I’m thinking about his beauty. That is definitely not in relation with my almost-suicide (again, which, how many more times am I going to do this before I succeed? Jesus Christ) or in relation with the complete lie I just told with a straight face.

“I didn’t think you were,” he manages to murmur, to which I nod. He’s lying right back to me, so the deed is rendered harmless and the situation has officially been dealt with. We can go back to sleep now, thank Fuck for that. I’m tired as hell. _ Or is it that I’m just too numb to deal with the emotions I’m feeling right now? _ I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I want to stop thinking today. I want to lie my head down and I want to feel a body against mine as I fall asleep. Friends spoon each other, right? I want that. My heart is full of yearning, longing. It shouldn’t be. I know it shouldn’t be. I’m so fucking sick. Why am I thinking of Kuro when I just almost threw myself out the window? Why am I thinking of sex. I don’t want to have sex. I want to be comforted. Nobody wants to comfort me. I can’t comfort myself. I never could. I want Kuro to comfort me. I want Kuro to love me like a real man is supposed to love his boyfriend. I don’t want to have anymore sex. I don’t want to feel anymore of that sinful pleasure. It makes me sick to my stomach. It repulses me. Why am I such a slut? Why did I do that? Why did I think it was okay to give my body away like that? 

I’m sure Tadashi keeps his love to himself and doesn’t mistake it for lust at 15 years old. I feel sick. 

“You must be tired,” I say, holding my hand out to hold Tadashi’s. He takes it and I help him stand up, but he is quick to let go and awkwardly situates it elsewhere, leaving me to believe that he doesn't want to touch me. Which, I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to touch me either. I feel sick just being in this skin of mine. I constantly feel as if I’m crawling with ants. They infest my head, infest my heart, cover my skin. They’re disgusting. They’re violating. Like the depression. The anxiety. The childhood trauma. The sex I had as a child. (I was 15. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why did I think that was okay? What  _ is _ wrong with me? Disgusting. My body is disgusting. I hate myself.) 

Tadashi smiles softly. “Yeah, and you probably are too. I’ll go change in your bathroom, if you don’t mind. You can go ahead and lie down.” 

I nod and watch him as he lifts his bag and takes for the bathroom. I watch as he softly shuts the door before collapsing on my bed with a sigh. I listen to him, I crawl under the covers with my ant body and lie my sickened head on a white pillow. It’s covered in tears, but you would never know by looking at it. And they’re all dried, of course they are. I haven’t felt real sadness in longer than I can recall. I’m just… I’m just tired now. That’s it. 

After a few minutes, Tadashi comes out of the bathroom and drops his bag beside the bed. He grins at me before quietly lifting my comforter and slipping beneath it. He pulls his phone out in front of him, his back facing me. I frown. I want him to come closer. I want to feel something other than numb. I want his warmth. 

He texts on his phone, I can hear the pads of his thumbs typing and the small sound of clicking through the screen. I don’t look over his shoulder or attempt to peek at his screen. It’s none of my business, no matter how jealous I might be. (Jealous? Really? How affection-deprived am I?) 

I poke his back, he turns his head and looks over his shoulder at me. I grin at him. “Who are you texting this late?” I joke, though I do really want to know. My head hurts, all it does is question and judge and I want it to stop. I just want to satisfy the need. I want to know more than I want to admit. 

Tadashi grins right back at me, and I might be mistaken by the dark room, but I swear he blushes. “Just.. I’m saying goodnight to Tsukki.”

I scoff, though I don’t mean to. It just comes out, because  _ of course  _ he’s texting his crush. Of course I’m not his first priority--why was I even caught up in thinking that I was? How self-righteous can I be? 

I cover the scoff with a dumbass smile, and I say, “Ohhh, just goodnight?” 

He turns off his phone and sets it on my bedside table, quickly turning around and punching me in the shoulder through the blankets. “Shut up,” he laughs, his eyes meeting mine. I break a smile, an accidental smile that I don’t even expect. Because now his attention is on me. And that’s where I want it to be. 

“What? You're still crushing hard?” I ask, obviously teasing him. He shakes his head, and I know for sure that he’s blushing. But I don’t mind it as much right now--because at least he’s looking at me when he does it. My heart skips a beat. 

“I think I’m in love,” he says, looking straight into my eyes. My heart swells in my chest, even though I know full well he isn’t talking about being in love with me. 

It’s never me. 

I reach my hand out and brush a strand of Tadashi’s hair behind his ear, much like my mother always does to attempt at comforting me. I swallow his soft expression and let it swelter in my being, puking itself back out onto my face. I don’t think when I say, “He must be so lucky then.” 

Tadashi nods, though only a little bit. “Thanks.” 

I nod back at him, but I don’t know what else to say. Apparently he doesn’t either, as neither of us talk for the next hour, or for the rest of the night. 

He slowly inches closer to me, and slowly allows me to envelop myself in his body. He rests one of his hands beneath his head, the other rests on my waist. When I manage to fall asleep, my head isn’t on a pillow--but lying on his chest.

The rhythm of his beating heart lulls me to complacency.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! hope you enjoyed this chapter, another one will be up soon (i hope haha)!   
> if you liked this chapter, make sure to leave kudos if you haven't and bookmark so you're caught up with updates when i post (i promise: my schedule is a MESS) and leave a comment telling me what you think!  
> i'm so grateful to have such epic readers. 
> 
> kelsey <3


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